


Say You'll Stay With Me

by celedan



Category: Torchwood
Genre: Alternate Universe, Anal Sex, Falling In Love, I don't know, Ianto's Coffee, M/M, Maybe slightly OoC sometimes, No Aliens, Oral Sex, Pretty Woman, Prostitute Jack, Prostitute Rose, The Greatcoat, happy end, of course
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-22
Updated: 2018-02-22
Packaged: 2019-03-22 15:25:13
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 32,792
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13767012
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/celedan/pseuds/celedan
Summary: “Pretty Woman” Torchwood-style: A peculiar chance-meeting leads hustler Jack into the hotel room of young, wealthy Ianto Jones. They spend the night together, and the next morning, Ianto makes an offer Jack simply can't refuse: Spend the whole week with him for three thousand pounds. No feelings, no romantic entanglements, just a simple deal between professionals. No problem for the two hardened business men. Right?





	Say You'll Stay With Me

**Author's Note:**

> The title is, of course, a line from Roy Orbison's song “Pretty Woman”. I don't know why, but a while ago, I had to think of the movie, and suddenly thought it a good idea to star Jack and Ianto in the lead roles; it just happened somehow^^.

Jack groaned as the damn alarm clock jerked him up from sleep. He opened bleary eyes to stare at the glaringly red numbers. Almost nine in the night. Waaay too early. He grumbled, and wanted to turn around again, but he had to get up. Work was calling.

“Rose?” he called, and listened for a moment, but there was no answer echoing back at him. He shrugged. She must have gone out before work.

Shuffling into the bathroom, he started to get ready, squeezing himself in his tight leather trousers after a much needed shower to wake him up. He turned around in the mirror to inspect his ass. Almost forty but still the hottest ass this side from Soho. Grinning smugly, he donned the rest of his clothes, and headed from the flat.

A commotion downstairs made him halt on the steps, eavesdropping with growing unease. It was their landlord's voice, fighting with one of the other tenants over the rent that was due for the end of the month.

Cursing softly under his breath, Jack hurried back into the flat to get out their secret stack of cash from behind a lose tile in the bathroom. He came up with an empty tin box.

“Shit!” he cried loudly, cursing Rose Tyler's name to Hell and beyond. 

He couldn't go out there with empty hands to run into his landlord, so instead, he climbed out of the window to leave the house over the fire escape ladder.

Time to look for Rose.

 

Livid, he hurried through the streets of Soho that slowly began to wake up. All of the night's creatures like he himself crawling from their daily hide holes.

Shivering, he drew his leather jacket tighter around his frame. It was cold tonight although it was May already. He walked faster, but stopped cold as he passed a crowd of eager onlookers trying to peer beyond a bunch of bobbies guarding a closed off crime scene.

“What happened there?” someone asked.

“Oh, just some whore that got offed or something; was dumped into a dumpster,” another onlooker replied, and Jack's blood ran cold. As he bolted from the crime scene, from the corner of his eye he caught sight of a slender arm poking from under the blanket that had been spread over the body. Numerous cheap bracelets adorned the arm. Jack's stomach rebelled as he realised that he knew the person that arm belonged to. 

Not looking back, he almost ran across the street and into the club he suspected Rose in.

The music was awfully loud, and he recoiled slightly, but he pressed through the throng of writhing bodies on the dance floor undeterred. After asking his way round, he found Rose on the upper gallery with some guys he knew fleetingly. She grinned brightly at him as she spotted him.

“Where's our money?” he asked without preamble.

Rose grew flustered. “Ehm, Jack, you know the Doctor, right? And that's Mickey and Jake.”

“I know these guys,” he snapped, “where's our money?”

“See, the Doctor sold me some great shit. We just had this party. I was the hostess.” She smiled innocently at him.

“I don't believe this!” Jack cried exasperated, and grasped her arm to pull her up. “You bought drugs with our rent! What's wrong with you, Rose?”

“I needed some cheering up,” she whined.

“Great. And we need rent money.”

“Calm down, sweetie,” the Doctor intervened, dragging his interested gaze up and down Jack's body. “She only owes me two-hundred more.”

“Doctor!” Rose hissed.

Jack couldn't believe what he was hearing.

“You can work off her money with me, we surely can work out something,” the other man offered with a sleazy grin.

Jack glared at him. “In your dreams. Come on.”

He dragged Rose away downstairs where she started to raid the snack's corner while they continued to argue.

“Don't get so worked up,” she pouted, and jerkily grabbed some fruit that was rather supposed to go into cocktails than into the napkin she had spread out as a makeshift plate. “You had nothing when you came here. I gave you money, a place to stay...”

Jack sighed. “And I love you for it, but this can't go on.”

“Oh, don't irritate me!”

“Irritate you?!” Gob-smacked, Jack followed Rose outside while she snacked on her pickings. “I've just seen Trisha get pulled out of a dumpster!”

Rose shrugged. “Yeah, heard that. But you could write her off. Mickey tried to get her off the drugs, but... well.”

“Don't you wanna get out of here?”

“Get out of here? Where the fuck you wanna go?”

“I don't know,” Jack answered softly.

Rose grunted at that.

 

After leaving the seedy though familiar club behind, they positioned themselves on their part of the road, wearily eyeing the other streetwalkers strolling up and down their parts of the kerb while waiting for some tricks.

“Looking really slow tonight, hm?” Jack sighed after an hour, looking around despondently. He had a hard enough time because of his age as it was already in-between all these young chicks. He didn't need empty streets on a night like this when they desperately needed some money for the rent.

“Yeah, looks like it. You know...” Rose bit her lip. “Maybe we should get a pimp. The Doctor's really into you.”

Jack rolled his eyes. “And then  _he_ 'll be the one taking our money. No, thank you.”

“Puh, yeah. We say who, we say when, we say how much.” Rose nodded her head resolutely, sticking out her chin proudly

“You got that right, baby.” Jack threw her one of his trademark grins, but it missed its usual cheerfulness. 

The screeching of tires and the painful stuttering of a motor made them both spin around. Jack's eyes widened. “Fucking Jesus!” he breathed at what he saw. The most beautiful Aston Martin had just rounded the corner... and was cruelly abused by its driver who didn't seem to be able to find the handbrake.

“Oh yo!” Rose cried, appalled as well. “What's he doing?!”

The car came to a stuttering halt a few metres away from them.

“It's a fucking Aston Martin,” Jack whispered, already in love with the car.

“No, it's our rent,” Rose grinned. “You should go for him. You're looking incredibly hot tonight.”

Jack frowned. “A man who owns such a car... 'M not sure if somebody like this is into men. Maybe you should...” He didn't like taking his chance, he rather waited for costumers to approach him so that he could be sure they were into men. You never knew, even if this was Soho. He wasn't that keen on picking out the one guy coming here who hated gays so that Jack would end up in a dumpster next to Trisha for looking wrong at this guy. Although all of their lives were incredibly dangerous, homophobia was something that Rose couldn't understand. You weren't safe from that even here.

“No, no, no,” she disagreed promptly. “He's roving about here, where all the boys are. Sure he's into men.” Rose smiled smugly at her own logic.

“ _You_ 're here, too,” Jack deadpanned. 

Rose frowned. “Hm, well, yeah, okay. But still. It's like I say. Don't take less than a hundred. Call me when you're through. Take care of you.”

Jack sighed, mock saluted her, and hugged her before he followed her prompt, sauntering over to the car with Rose's encouraging cat-calls echoing behind him. He leaned down to peek inside the window.

“You need some help?” he asked the surprisingly young – and cute – man behind the wheel desperately trying to change gear. Startled blue eyes looked up at Jack, taking him in with just one look, and probably correctly interpreting what he was since his wide-eyed gaze flitted around so as if only noticing now where he actually was for the first time. 

“Well, I wanna find Hyde Park,” he answered. “The Dorchester Hotel to be precise. Can you give me directions?”

“Sure. For five quid,” Jack replied with a challenging grin.

The younger man blinked perplexed. “Ridiculous,” he scoffed then.

“Price just went up to ten,” Jack shrugged, aloof.

“You can't charge me for directions,” he spluttered.

“I can do anything I want to, baby. _I_ ain't lost.” Jack's grin took on a smug note.

They stared at each other for a few long seconds, engaged in a battle of wills.

Eventually, the man nodded slowly, looking like he was accepting Jack's logic. He sighed. “All right, you win. Got change for a twenty?”

“For twenty, I'll show you personal,” Jack said, and got into the car. 

“Huh,” he made perplexed, but without arguing, the younger man started the car, and took down the road, following Jack's directions. 

“Lights!” Jack called amused. “Lights would be good here.” Being stopped by the cops was the last thing he needed tonight.

Quite embarrassed, the other man turned on the car's lights.

Jack shook his head kinda fondly at the other's helplessness.

“This is a hot car,” Jack had to admire eventually as the car wormed its way smoothly through the nightly traffic, practically bursting to talk about something so hot. It had been ages since he had talked with somebody about things he was interested in outside from work.

“A little temperamental,” the man pressed out through gritted teeth, and once more struggled with the car.

“Yours?”

“No, it isn't.”

“Ah, stolen?”

“Eh, no. Not exactly.” But then, he frowned petulantly. “You know what? It's my lawyer's car. He bought it with the money I pay him, so, yeah, it probably is my car.” Mischief gleamed in the blue eyes, and a boyish smirk brightened up the otherwise much too serious features. Jack couldn't help but chuckle.

The man turned towards Jack again as they stopped at a red light, now scrutinising him with an unreadable look on his young face. “What's your name?”

“What would you call me?” was Jack's reply, his voice taking on a note like warm honey.

He was only met with an exasperatedly raised eyebrow.

“Jack. My name's Jack,” he replied, suddenly quite flustered.

A satisfied smile played around the man's mouth.

For a while, they kept silent, Jack trying to simply enjoy the ride in this fantastic car while the man at his side still fought with the gear. Eventually, Jack couldn't keep silent any longer, and involuntarily started to lecture the other man about cars, especially about this one, and what cruelties he was committing against this beauty.

“How come you know so little about cars?” he chuckled as the man looked quite lost at everything Jack had told him.

“My first car was a limousine.”

“Oh.” Jack's smile became frozen on his face as he started to grasp which kind of man he really was dealing with here, and he started to wince as the car gave off some horribly painful noises as it was forced into the wrong gear over and over again. Exasperated, he turned bodily to the other man. “Look, you're not shifting right. This is a standard 'H'.”

“Standard 'H',” the younger man muttered. “Like I know what that means.” He sighed in exasperation again (he did that really well and quite often, Jack noticed). “You ever driven an Aston Martin?”

A mad laugh bubbled up in Jack. “What?!” He froze as he realised the man was serious. “Eh, no.”

“Then you can start right now.”

And with that, he pulled up to the curb, and got out of the car. Jack didn't have another choice but to swap places with him and get behind the wheel (not that it was such a hardship, he had to admit in mounting excitement). For a moment, he just sat in the smooth leather seat, and enjoyed the powerful feeling of sitting behind the wheel of this car. A manic grin spread over Jack's face. “Fasten your seat belt. I'm taking you for the ride of your life.” He looked at the other man, and, waggling his eyebrows suggestively, started the car. “I'm gonna show you what this car can really do. Are you ready?”

“I don't believe I'll ever be ready for this,” was the muttered reply, but Jack ignored him.

“Hang on. Here we go.”

The seething silence that wafted at Jack from the passenger seat for the next few minutes told him that obviously this car-abuser had to admit that it was fantastic to drive in this oh so temperamental car if it only was handled correctly. Jack chuckled, and sneaked a peak at the other man who couldn't contain his own chuckles at the absurdity of the situation. It was a surprisingly enjoyable atmosphere.

“Tell me,” the man broke the silence after a while. “What kind of... What kind of money do you make these days in your business?”

Jack perked up, recalling Rose's prompt. “Can't take less than a hundred,” Jack replied smoothly.

“Hundred pounds a night?”

“For an hour,” he boldly stated.

“An hour?!” the other man exclaimed, incredulous. 

Jack shrugged nonchalantly.

“You make a hundred pounds an hour, and you got a safety pin holding your boot together?” he scoffed. “You gotta be joking.”

Jack cringed. Of course he had to notice  _that_ . “I never joke about money,” was Jack's rather serious reply.

“Neither do I.”

The younger man looked at Jack intensely, shaking his head, chuckling. “Hundred pounds an hour. Pretty stiff.”

He jumped as suddenly, Jack's hand crept into his lap, fondling his crotch.

“Well, no,” Jack replied expertly, “but it's got potential.”

He pulled his hand away as he was once more met with this exasperated, but at the same time impassive gaze, and rather fixed his eyes onto the street ahead again.

 

Since it wasn't far from Soho to the Dorchester, they reached their destination after a few more minutes, Jack stopping the car with a dashing James-Bond-like, smooth move in front of the hotel. A porter hurried over to take the car.

“Good evening, Mr. Jones, will you be needing the car any more tonight?”

“No, I hope not,” the man, Mr. Jones apparently, chuckled. 

They both looked after the car as it was driven into the hotel's garage.

“So... here it is.” Jack looked up at the impressive hotel that he'd only seen from afar until now. 

“Yeah.”

Once again, they looked at each other slightly awkwardly.

“You'll be all right?”

He was startled out of his admiration of the hotel building, and looked at Jones. “Yeah, I'm just gonna grab a cab back.”

“Go back to your office,” Mr. Jones chuckled.

“Yeah,” Jack laughed. “My office. Yeah.”

“Well. Thanks for the ride.”

Jack pressed his lips together, slightly disappointed, but somehow, he couldn't bring himself to press the other man to spend the night with him. The situation was awkward enough already, not what Jack had expected in the slightest. “Okay. See ya.” Reluctantly, he turned away from the hotel.

“Goodbye.”

He strolled away from the front entrance, spotting a nearby bus stop where he could wait. Surely, he wouldn't waste his money on a cab, especially if the twenty quid probably were the only money he would earn tonight. He even contemplated walking. It wasn't that far back to Soho after all...

“No cab?” He jumped when suddenly, Mr. Jones stood behind him at the bus stop. 

“No, rather take the bus,” Jack replied with a confident smile. 

Jones nodded in understanding. “Say... what I can't get out of my head... Do you really take one hundred an hour?”

“Sure.” Jack's hopes perked up again. 

“Yeah. Hm.” Jones frowned contemplatively. “Well, if you don't have any prior engagements, I would be very pleased if you would accompany me into the hotel.”

A bright grin spread over Jack's face that seemed to take the other man aback in its intensity for a moment. Got you, he thought, and slowly strolled back to the hotel with the younger man at his side.

“What's your name by the way?”

“Ianto.”

“Ianto? That's... Welsh, right?” He'd noticed the rather attractive accent of the man right from the start, but couldn't place it until just now.

“It is.”

“Ianto...” Jack tried out the name on his tongue, earning himself a chuckle at his pronunciation. “It's quite hot,” he decided eventually. “And it suits you.”

“Thanks,” Ianto laughed dryly. “I'll try to remember telling my mother. She'll be pleased.” Ianto took off the coat he was wearing, and put it around Jack's shoulders. “Maybe you should put this on.”

“Eh, why?” Confused, Jack looked at the other man, but complied automatically, and adjusted the expensive, heavy wool coat on his shoulders since it wouldn't have fit over his leather jacket properly.

“Well,” Ianto answered, helping him adjust the coat neatly. “This hotel is not the kind of establishment that rents rooms by the hour.”

“Ah.” Jack pressed his lips together, suddenly overly aware of the skin-tight leather trousers with the slitted sides he wore as well as the skimpy see-through shirt. He pulled the coat tighter around himself, somehow enjoying the heavy feel of it on his shoulders. It reminded him painfully of his grandfather's old greatcoat that was back at the flat which he only seldomly got to wear. 

 

Following Ianto through the foyer, he looked around in awe. Inwardly, he was terrified in these unfamiliar surroundings, but he didn't let it show. On the outside, he put on a confident, aloof mask as he strolled through this luxurious hall, passing all kinds of filthily rich looking people.

“Holy shit!” he exclaimed, instantly wanting to duck his head as all these stiff people looked down their noses at him.

“It's fine,” Ianto smiled at him. “Come with me. And stop fidgeting.” He threw him an amused look over his shoulder.

They made a detour towards reception where Ianto picked up his mail, and ordered champagne and strawberries up to his room while Jack waited patiently beside him, refraining from the urge to fidget in nervousness again.

They made their way to the elevators where an elderly couple was already waiting. Jack was bursting with nervousness, looking around insecurely. But then, he met the woman's very interested gaze practically stripping him in her mind, and he threw her a bright, lascivious grin, instantly feeling on safer territory. He winked at her. “Hey sweetie,” he purred, making this stern looking older lady blush.

The elevator dinged, and Jack strolled in with swinging hips. 

“Lucky me!” he cried, and threw himself down onto the elevator's bench, lounging there with seductively spread thighs. “There's a couch in here for two!”

Enquiringly, Ianto looked at the elderly couple waiting in front of the elevator, but the man shook his head politely, barely refraining his wife from following Jack inside who had fixed her very interested gaze onto the attractive, highly unusual man.

“First time in an elevator,” Ianto explained impassively, and followed Jack inside the cubicle.

“Sorry,” Jack said sheepishly after the doors had closed behind them. “Couldn't help myself.”

Ianto threw him an impassive side-look out of his blue eyes although they gleamed with hidden mirth. “But next time...”

“Yeah, yeah.”

The short ride was spent in an awkward silence which wasn't improved by the presence of the elevator boy who probably had been desperately trying not to listen in to this interesting exchange.

Luckily, a few seconds later, he declared their destination.

“The penthouse!” Jack chuckled, impressed, and sauntered from the elevator.

Ianto followed him, amused. He spun around before he went down the corridor to his suite, and came face to face with the fascinated gaping elevator boy. Blushing because he had been caught staring, the young man hurriedly retreated back into the elevator.

Taken aback, Jack looked around the luxuries suite Ianto had led him into, all the while feeling the younger man's amused eyes on his person.

“Impressed?” he asked mildly.

Jack scoffed. “You kidding me? I come here all the time.” He took off Ianto's coat as well as his jacket to throw them over the back of the couch. “As a matter of fact, they do rent this room by the hour.”

“Sure they do,” Ianto replied deadpan, and crossed over to the office desk where his business correspondence and papers started to pile up already after only one day here. 

Jack left him to it, and rather went onto the balcony. “Wow! Great view!” he called, immensely enjoying the fantastic view over Hyde Park. “I bet you can see all the way to the riverside from out here.”

“I'll take your word for it, I don't go out there.”

Jack came back in, and stared at the younger man dumbfounded. “You what? Why?”

“I'm afraid of heights,” Ianto said, but didn't look up from the mail he was reading.

“Really? So why do you rent the penthouse?” Jack laughed good-naturedly at him.

“Because it's the best,” was the amused reply, the reasoning of which Jack found pretty stupid. “I looked all around for penthouses on the first floor, but I couldn't find one.”

Jack shook his head, chuckling quietly, and secretly loving the other man's dry humour, but then, he straightened up. Time for banter was over, they really should get down to business now. “Well,” he drawled, and sauntered over to Ianto. “Now that you have me here, what are you gonna do with me?”

“You know what? I have absolutely no idea,” Ianto admitted.

“No? I could think about a few things.”

“I'm sure you do.” He leaned back in the chair at the desk. “I hadn't exactly planned this.”

“So, you plan ev'rything?”

“Yeah. It's kind of an obsession.”

“Hm.” Jack made, and leaned against the back of the couch closest to the desk. “I'm not much of a planner. Never was. I'm more the spontaneous type.”

“I understand.”

An awkward silence settled between them once more (by now, they had awkward down to an art form). It was almost like pulling teeth. Jack had never met a costumer that had to be coerced into having sex with him. Challengingly, he looked at Ianto. “You know, maybe you should pay me. Good way to break the ice.”

“Oh, yes, sure, you're the expert here.” Ianto pulled out his wallet. “Uhm, I assume cash is acceptable?”

“Cash is king.” Jack shrugged, and bridged the distance between them. Casually, he perched on the edge of the desk as he took the money from Ianto to put it in the little inside pocket of his trousers. “You're on my fax,” Ianto informed him impassively.

Flushing at his faux pas, Jack squirmed around to pull the sheet of paper from under his bum, presenting Ianto with a front-seat-row view. He handed it over with a heavy-lidded gaze. “That's one I haven't been on before.”

“Thanks.”

“All right. Here we go.” All for business again, Jack reached into another hidden pocket, and pulled out some condom packets, spreading them out in offering like a colourful fan. “Pick one,” he urged. “I got blue, I got green, I got red. I'm outta purple, but I do have one Gold Circle Coin left. That's for the champions, nothin' is getting' through this little treasure. What do ya say?” He waved the little plastic packages in front of Ianto's face. 

“A buffet of safety,” Ianto retorted drily. 

“I'm a safety boy,” Jack grinned.

Ianto chuckled, looking up at Jack once more with an unreadable expression, but then, he sighed, and stood up. Immediately, Jack's clever hands flew to his belt buckle. “Let's get you out of these.”

“Whoa, wait, wait, I...” Ianto started to protest, grabbing Jack's wrists with an embarrassed laugh. The older man stopped, and looked questioningly at Ianto.

“Why don't we just... talk a little.”

Jack's face fell although he really didn't know why. The prospect of getting paid without having to sleep with a customer should have made him happy, but, looking at Ianto... 

“Okay,” he nodded uneasily, watching the other man shed his suit jacket. Damn, he looked hot in that waistcoat... “Ehm, Ianto. Tell me, are you in town on, uh, business or pleasure?”

“Business, I think.”

“You think.” Exasperated, Jack followed him over to the couch, sitting down onto the footstool across from the armchair Ianto had sat down in, shuffling as close as he could get to the other man. He stared at him hard. “Let's see. That would make you... a lawyer.”

“Why would you think that?”

“You got that... sharp, useless look about you.”

“Well, thanks,” Ianto snorted. “You're quite charming, aren't you.” Now it was him looking Jack up and down. “Bet you've known a lot of lawyers.”

“Oh, here and there,” Jack shrugged, casually brushing his fingertips over Ianto's thighs. Before he could slide his hands up higher though, the ringing of a melodious bell made them both startle, and they stood up hurriedly, coming to stand almost pressed chest to chest together.

“What's that?” Jack breathed. He turned his head to look at Ianto who did the same so that their noses almost touched.

“Champagne.”

“Oh. Great.” He grinned. “Might as well make myself useful... I'll go open the door.”

Awkwardly, Jack rushed over to the door to flee the other man's close proximity that inexplicably left him quite flushed. 

After the page boy had gone (who, despite his strict training couldn't stop staring at Jack), Ianto poured some champagne. 

“Sooo,” Jack began, sitting down on one of the carpet-covered steps that led from the bar area of the suite down to the living room area. “Do you have a wife? Lover?”

“I have both.”

“Where are they?” Jack grinned suggestively. “Shopping together?”

“My ex-wife, Lisa, is here in London in my ex-home with my ex-dog,” Ianto explained, putting a small bowl of strawberries down next to Jack onto the floor. “My ex-boyfriend, Alonso, is in Cardiff, moving out of my flat even as we speak.” Ianto watched Jack drinking down the expensive champagne as if it were orange juice. He shook his head fondly. “Try a strawberry.”

“Ehm, why?” Confused, Jack looked up at him.

“It brings out the flavour in the champagne,” Ianto explained, gradually getting a little helpless here, but nonetheless, his fascination with this man was unbroken.

“Oh, right.” Grinning, Jack took a strawberry, and Ianto had to turn away because of the things Jack's mouth did to the innocent fruit. He cleared his throat, and tried to will down the slight steering in his trousers. He sat down upon one of the bar stools, and, once more completely spell-bound, dared to look at Jack again. He swallowed heavily as he saw those full lips covered in strawberry-juice.

“Don't you want any?” Jack wondered, questioningly holding out the strawberries, and looking pointedly at the champagne.

“No.”

“You don't drink.”

“That's correct.”

“Hm.” Jack frowned at him, looking down onto the glass in his one hand and the rest of the strawberry in the other. “Listen, I really appreciate this whole gentlemanly seduction thing, it's quite cute, but let me give you a tip: I'm a sure thing for you, okay? So, I'm on an hourly rate, could we just move it along?”

Ianto leaned back against the bar, crossing his arms before his chest. “Somehow I'm sensing that this time problem is a major issue with you.” He stood up again. “Why don't we just get through that right now?”

“Great, let's get started.” Jack shoved the rest of the strawberry into his mouth, and put his empty glass down.

“How much for the entire night?”

Jack froze, and stared up at the other man with wide, shocked eyes. “The entire night?” His gaze flitted around incredulously, inwardly chastising himself why he was so reluctant to accept the proposition since he, surprisingly, really wanted to spend the whole night with this man. Raising his chin, he put on an aloof expression. “You couldn't afford me.”

“Try me.”

“Three hundred pounds,” was faster out of Jack's mouth than he could think.

And equally as fast, Ianto answered with a confident “Done”, and bend down to pick up Jack's champagne glass. “Thanks. Now, we can finally relax.”

 

Fleeing into the bathroom for the moment, Jack tried to get his bearings again. He looked up into the mirror, checking his appearance for any imperfections (apart from his age), and wondered why Ianto had done this, paid for a whole night. Somehow, it didn't look like there would be any sex tonight. A pity, really.

“What's gotten into you, Harkness,” he hissed softly. “Be glad instead.” That someone would want a whole night was practically unheard off. He was a streetwalker, not a highly priced courtesan. And, to be truthful, Jack wouldn't have wanted to spend the night with most of the costumers he slept with. Ten years ago, maybe, but then, they had been young and sometimes quite hot, much like himself. Now that he was getting older – and really, in this business, he was practically ancient; he could only hold his ground because he still looked hot, and sucked cock like none of these skinny little whores he had to share his place on the street with ever could –, the younger, more attractive costumers picked somebody their age. He was left with the old, the unattractive, the kinky ones or even the dangerous ones. The ones the arrogant younger whores didn't want. Well, he had been like that as well once, not yet knowing what this business really was about at the beginning, still full of hopes and the certainty that this was only a phase, that soon, he would leave this behind to do something else, so why not being picky in who to chose... 

But Ianto... He looked over his shoulder through the open bathroom door, so as if he could spot the other man from here. He wouldn't have minded doing him. There was something about him...

So, why was he so uneasy about spending the whole night? He looked at his reflection again, seeing an incredibly stunning man staring back at him who, nonetheless, couldn't deny the first signs of ageing on his face. Maybe that was it. He was good for a quick and dirty, but what if he turned out to be lacking over the course of a whole night? There wasn't much hiding in a big bed, stripped down to his skin instead of fucking in a dark alley or a dingy hotel room mostly clothed. He made himself vulnerable here, and he didn't even want to imagine Ianto looking upon his body with sudden disappointment. His pride in his good looks and his skills was everything he still had sometimes, after all... 

“You all right in there?”

Jack jumped at Ianto's voice, chiding himself for his uncharacteristic jumpiness tonight. Briskly, he reached into one of the hidden pockets inside his trousers again to get on with things. 

“Yeah, I'm fine. I'll be out in a minute,” he called back through the half open door.

“Didn't quite catch that, wha...”

Ianto stopped short as he stepped into the bathroom, startling Jack who spun around to him, hiding something behind his back.

“I said, I'm out in a minute,” Jack answered, his smile much too cheerful and nervous although he tried to play it cool.

Ianto frowned, his face becoming darker by the minute. “What... what do you have there behind your back? What are you hiding?”

“Nothing,” Jack retorted much too quickly. 

He started to squirm under Ianto's dark gaze as the other man stepped closer. 

“Listen, I don't want any drugs here, you hear me.” He grabbed Jack by the upper arm, and tried to steer him towards the exit. “Get your stuff and your money, and please leave.”

“I don't do any drugs!” Jack cried, outraged, and squirmed from Ianto's hold. He planted himself in front of the other man defiantly, glaring at him. 

“Oh really,” Ianto scoffed. “And what's this?!” He'd managed to snatch Jack's wrist, and wrestled the object from him that he'd tried to hide. The younger man froze at what he saw. Dumbfounded, he stared down onto the little box of dental silk. 

“This is dental silk,” he stated the obvious stupidly.

“Yeah, so?” Angrily and embarrassed, Jack snatched the box back. “There were all those strawberry seeds between my teeth,” he spluttered in helpless outrage. “You should always take care of your teeth after all.”

The look Ianto gave him was a mixture of surprise, shock, and embarrassment. “I'm sorry,” he said quietly, chagrined, stepping out of the way to give Jack access to the mirror again. Huffing, the older man passed Ianto with a string of dental silk in his hand. 

The hairs on the back of his neck started to rise as he sensed he was being watched. He spun around. “You gonna watch or what?” he bristled.

“No, no, I'm going.” But Ianto didn't go. Instead, he stayed where he was, not quite looking at Jack, but not really ready to leave him out of his sight yet. He chuckled as he watched the other man stow the dental silk box back in his trousers.

“What else have you got in that trousers of yours? Is this Harry Potter? Bigger from the inside?” Ianto marvelled with a snorting laugh which managed to break the awkward spell that had settled over them.

“Well, maybe, you have to find out.” Jack threw him a seductive smirk which, unfortunately, didn't seem to impress Ianto that much. To be truthful, he himself hadn't put much effort in it since he was still slightly startled.

“It's just...” Ianto became serious once more. “Very few people still surprise me.”

This confession surprised Jack however, and he looked at the man who was much too young to think like that already. “Lucky you,” Jack replied slowly. “Most people shock the hell outta me.”

Ianto raised an incredulous eyebrow.

“Yeah, I know. Boisterous me is scared of ev'rything? Hard to believe, but it's true.” Jack shrugged self-deprecatingly. 

“You're not afraid of heights,” Ianto stated softly.

“No, 'm not.”

“Then you're a braver man than I.” 

Jack didn't know if it had been meant as a joke or if the other man was serious, nonetheless, he felt better already. Taking in a deep breath, he turned back around to the mirror.

“You're still watching,” he pointed out, put-upon.

“I'm going, I'm going.” Ianto beat a hasty retreat, closing the door behind himself.

 

As Jack had predicted, there weren't any intimacies between them when he came out of the bathroom. Ianto told him he still had some phone calls to make, but Jack was welcome to help himself to the mini bar and the TV.

For a moment, Jack still marvelled about Ianto's behaviour, then he shrugged – it was Ianto's money, he could spend it as he saw fit –, raided the mini bar for various snacks, and, comfortably stripped down to just his trousers, settled before the huge TV. This was fantastic. The thing was as big as a cinema screen, and, oh God, he couldn't believe his luck, My Fair Lady was on tonight!

Munching happily on his snacks, Jack waited for the film to start, completely relaxed. He couldn't remember the last time he'd had the chance to watch TV in peace for a whole evening or night. And one of the classics, too. Rose hadn't that much interest in the old movies and musicals, so he always had to wait until she was out of the flat to have access to their battered old TV. 

He felt Ianto watch him while he was on the phone with someone, but he didn't mind, and soon, when Eliza began to sing her first song, he was lost in the music anyway, completely forgetting his surroundings.

At some time though, he noticed that Ianto had ended the phone call he had been having for quite a while now, and Jack thought it only proper to at least acknowledge his host.

“I have a little carpet picnic here.” Questioningly, he looked up at the other man. “You wanna join me? Maybe a drink after all?”

Ianto shook his head, smiling. “Don't need alcohol. I'm high on life, can't you tell,” he chuckled, then mock-frowned. “And coffee. You'll see soon enough for yourself.”

“Well, I don't know anyone who's opposed to a good cup of coffee,” Jack affirmed, sighing heavily. “The only problem is, it's such a hard feat to get to good coffee.”

“Yeah, it is, isn't it.” Ianto's eyes gleamed with mischief. “I'll tell you something. Screw the hotel's coffee, I'll have a coffee machine brought up here, and then I'll make you the best cup of coffee you've ever had in your life.”

Jack raised a challenging eyebrow, a shiver running through him at the comfortable banter. “You can make coffee? Fantastic coffee at that?”

“Of course,” Ianto preened. “I always have a packet of my special blend with me since I'm awfully picky when it comes to coffee.”

“Okay, we have a deal, Mr. Jones,” Jack grinned smugly.

“All right, Mr...” Ianto faltered, slightly caught of guard that he didn't know Jack's surname.

“Harkness,” the older man provided.

Ianto inclined his head. “All right, Mr. Harkness, I hereby promise you the coffee-experience of your live come morning.”

They both chuckled at each other, bathing in the relaxed atmosphere for long moments until suddenly, Jack's attention was wrenched back towards the TV. “Oh, I love this song!” he cried, and settled down once more, singing along under his breath.

Ianto shook his head fondly, and relaxed back into the couch cushions, content to watch this highly unusual man having some innocent fun for the moment. 

Once in a while, Ianto peeked over toward the screen, laughter bubbling up inside himself as he watched poor Eliza struggle with her outlandish speech exercises. “It's been a while since I saw this movie,” Ianto admitted softly.

But Jack had heard him. He looked up at Ianto, a bright laugh still on his face which slowly died down. He swallowed, a sudden mood like a spell settling over them. He came to a decision then and there. Sitting up, he crawled over towards Ianto on his hands and knees, kneeling before the other man. Without breaking eye contact, he slowly slipped his fingers under the hem of Ianto's trousers to caress his leg for a moment. 

Letting go of him again, Jack grabbed for the remote to switch off the TV before turning to Ianto once more. They still looked at each other, but now, Ianto's eyes involuntarily strayed down to Jack's crotch as the older man oh so slowly undid his trousers.

“No underwear?” Ianto chuckled, but his throat was becoming awfully dry at the first peek of dark pubic hair.

Jack laughed at him good-naturedly, but with an unmistakable husky note to his voice as he answered that made Ianto shiver all of a sudden, falling for Jack's spell at break-neck speed. “Silly. Bad for business.”

“I see...” Ianto swallowed hard, trying to uphold his aloofness, but failing rapidly.

“I don't think you do, but you will,” Jack whispered, his nimble fingers making short work of Ianto's waistcoat buttons and shirt. As he had bared Ianto's chest, he carded his fingers through the thick, dark hair in delight. Instinctively, Ianto spread his thighs so that Jack could shuffle even closer on his knees, leaning over the other man, and pressing their chests flush together. They were so close now, their noses were almost touching.

“How do you want me?” he whispered.

“What do you do?”

“Everything,” Jack replied huskily. “But I don't kiss on the mouth.”

“Neither do I.”

They shared a look of silent understanding, then Jack bend over Ianto's chest to take a peaked nipple into his mouth, gently worrying it between his teeth, and sucking at it alternately. 

Ianto sucked in a surprised breath, and arched his back, pushing his nipple demandingly against Jack's mouth. Intensifying his ministrations, Jack brought his other hand up to work the other nipple with his fingers while pressing his body more firmly into Ianto. He felt the other man's erection against his stomach, and, surprisingly, he felt himself harden as well. 

Eager to see Ianto's cock, he let go of his nipples, and deftly unbuckled his trousers, almost impatiently dragging them and the black underwear over Ianto's hips with a little help from the younger man. His eyes lit up as they fell on to the beautiful cock lying hard and flushed with blood amidst a nest of dark curls. Completely forgetting where he was and what the relationship between them was like, Jack bend over Ianto's crotch, inhaling for a moment the other's musky scent, and then drew his erection into his mouth, only stopping until the head bumped against the back of his throat.

Ianto groaned throatily, and had to force himself not to instinctively thrust up into the snug, wet heat. Involuntarily, his shaking hands wandered into Jack's hair, gripping the strands tightly the more Jack sucked and swallowed around him. He cried out brokenly as an especially intense sucking motion combined with Jack's clever fingers rolling his balls expertly made his whole body vibrate with arousal. His hips snapped up so that he buried his cock deep inside the other man's throat. For a moment, Jack choked on the sudden intrusion, but he quickly relaxed his throat muscles, and took Ianto deeper while he let the younger man thrust deeply a few times. 

But, surprisingly, this wasn't what he wanted. Not at all. So, instead of bringing the other man off with his mouth, he let the spit-covered length slide from his mouth again with an obscene plop, and looked up at Ianto with burning, challenging eyes. 

“Come with me,” he urged, his voice slightly raspy from the fucking his throat had had to endure. Scrambling up from the floor, he grasped Ianto's hand, and hauled the other man up. Without ever letting go of each other's intense gazes, Jack led him into the bedroom where he set about stripping both of them quickly. He swallowed heavily as he saw Ianto completely naked for the first time, and he felt his cock harden even more with want. Drawing him down onto the bed with him, both men moaned as Ianto came to lie on Jack's body, covering him like a warm blanket. For the first time, he started to participate, now eagerly running his hands over Jack's body, exploring and learning. Jack did the same while sucking a hickey onto Ianto's shoulder. In one hand though, he'd held a condom packet clasped tightly in his fist he now set about putting to good use. Pushing Ianto gently away to have more room, he ripped open the little plastic package. Slipping his hands between their bodies, Jack carefully gripped Ianto's cock, and rolled the lubed condom over the straining erection, drinking in the panting breaths his light touch evoked. Satisfied, Jack watched the other man struggling to keep it together, and, in the spur of a moment, took his chance to rearrange Ianto onto his back with him straddling him. He smiled confidently at him, gauging if this position was all right with Ianto. He himself didn't particularly care which position he was fucked in, but it had been hours already since he'd prepared himself back home under the shower. Riding the other man would at least give him some control about the depth and forcefulness of the penetration so that it would hurt less. But suddenly, Ianto's blue gaze bored into him as if he had guessed Jack's thoughts, and he rolled them both around again. Jack was so surprised that he didn't put up any resistance. He settled back on his back once more, and allowed Ianto to put a pillow under his hips, and steeled himself for the inevitable. At least, he only used lubed condoms because that was the only preparation he would get from his costumers most of the time if he didn't take care of it himself beforehand. Jack sucked in a shocked breath as Ianto leaned over towards the bedside table, and pulled open one of the drawers. Dumbfounded, Jack watched him pull out a tube of lube. Their gazes met, Ianto smirking smugly at him. “Not so uptight like you thought, right?”

Jack swallowed heavily, not taking his spellbound gaze from Ianto's hands as he squeezed a big dollop of lube onto his fingers. “Never thought that,” he rasped. He winked weakly at Ianto. “The boring types are always the ones who surprise you the most.”

Ianto chuckled, and looked intently at Jack. “I wouldn't be so sure of that,” he murmured, and slipped his dripping fingers between Jack's cheeks. The older man sucked in a breath as the cold lube was rubbed over his entrance.

“Sorry,” Ianto mumbled.

“No, it's all right. If done correctly, cold can be incredibly arousing.” He pushed his hips down, trying to impale himself onto Ianto's fingers. “I can show you some time.”

“Can't wait.” Ianto's voice faltered because, mesmerised, he watched what his fingers were doing. He slipped the first one into Jack easily. The older man sighed; apparently, he was still a little lose after all. A moan slipped from his mouth as Ianto soon breached him with a second finger, starting to slide them in and out tantalisingly slow. Jack had to admit, Ianto had some skills there. He shuddered in sudden anticipation. This could really become a fantastic night (as he had secretly hoped). It had been so long since he'd had any fun with a costumer...

He cried out as Ianto's questing fingers suddenly found his prostate, the smug, dark chuckle of the other man sending aroused shivers down Jack's spine. Ianto pulled his fingers out, only to thrust them in hard again and again, hitting Jack's prostate with every stroke. Amazingly, he started to harden rapidly again under Ianto's ministrations, having lost his erection slightly as his muscle memory had kicked in of what he had to do with a costumer, simply shutting down his body instinctively as well as detaching his mind like he normally did. But now, he was hard again, he anticipated what was coming, and eagerly, he pushed down onto the other man's fingers. 

Ianto took in deep, deep breaths to control himself. But it was so fucking hard. Just watching this bewitching creature writhing under him was almost enough to tip him over the edge. The other man was so breathtakingly beautiful that it seemed unreal. A small part of Ianto fully expected to wake up any minute now from this surreal, erotic dream. The rest of him knew this to be reality though, and he would enjoy it while it lasted. He looked down again, watching enraptured as now three of his fingers were swallowed up by Jack's body, the rim of his muscles stretching almost obscenely around his fingers. He swallowed heavily once more, and wanted to squeeze his cock tightly with the other hand to refrain from coming. But he endured, and while he fucked the other man with his fingers a few minutes longer, he bend down over the heaving, sweat-glistening body to put his mouth over a peaked nipple. Jack cried out in surprise, and arched up into Ianto's mouth, his hands gripping the sheets tightly. Ianto's other hand sneaked up Jack's muscled thigh and between his legs, gently sliding the tips of his fingers up and down the straining erection that bumped against his chest. Mewling softly, Jack didn't seem to know if he should push up into Ianto's touch on his cock or impale himself on his fingers inside his ass. 

But since Ianto was on the brink himself, the other man's enticing scent not really helping keeping his composure, Ianto pulled his fingers out, and let go of Jack's nipple. Shaking fingers reached for the lube again, and he smeared more slippery gel onto his cock, the lube covering the condom not nearly enough in his opinion. 

Throwing the tube aside carelessly again, Ianto grabbed Jack's hips tightly to pull him onto his thighs. Guiding himself with one hand between the older man's cheeks, he shuddered as the head of his cock bumped against the tightly closed hole. Meeting Jack's lust-blown eyes, he took a deep breath, and then pushed. Both men moaned as the head of Ianto's erection popped through the first ring of muscle, and when he slid deeper inside, Jack's body practically sucked him inside. He shoved all the way in until his balls nestled tightly against Jack's muscular cheeks, and he had to keep still for a moment to let the overwhelming sensations abate slightly. 

Meeting Jack's eyes again and holding tight to them, he drew back, only to push in again in one fluid, firm stroke. He did it again, burying himself more deeply this time, and he upped the tempo of his thrusts until, with every stroke he took, he was pounding into the other man's ass hard and fast. Jack moaned and trashed underneath him, tightening his thighs instinctively around Ianto's waist to draw him in deeper as, changing his angle slightly, the younger man battered Jack's prostate with every sharp thrust inside, and at the same time reached for Jack's stone-hard cock that leaked precome copiously, wetting Ianto's fingers with glistening fluid. 

He felt the pleasure mounting, his thrusts as well as the motions of his fist around Jack's cock becoming jerky and uncoordinated for a moment before he froze, his cock expanding slightly inside the snug confines of the condom, and then he was coming. A drawn-out moan was ripped from him, and he shuddered with pleasure. His eyes widened as vice-like, rippling contractions suddenly milked his cock from even the last drop he had to offer. Hot, sticky come splashed over his fingers and onto Jack's stomach as the older man came as well with a hoarse shout. 

His chest heaving in a desperate attempt to draw in much needed breath, Ianto collapsed next to Jack, bringing the older man with him so that he still stayed locked tightly into the tight passage. He wanted to enjoy the feeling for a moment longer. Opening heavy eyes, he met Jack's equally as worn out gaze, but was taken aback at the gentle smile the other man threw him. 

“Thank you,” Jack whispered, and Ianto was sure, had Jack been more coherent, he wouldn't have wanted for Ianto to hear his thanks. Thanks probably for being treated decent tonight. He quickly smiled at him in return, but otherwise chose to ignore the other man's momentary lapse. Instead, he gripped the base of his cock, holding tight to the condom, and carefully pulled out. Jack's breath hitched, but otherwise, he gave no sign of any discomfort. Forcing his heavy limbs to move, Ianto clambered up and into the bathroom where he got rid of the condom, and wetted a flannel under warm water which he brought back into the bedroom. Perching on the corner of the mattress, he gently wiped the come from Jack's stomach as well as the lube from between his cheeks. All the while, he felt the other man's sleepy but incredulous gaze boring into him which he ignored steadfastly.

“Sleep,” Ianto whispered curtly, gently kissing Jack's shoulder. “I've still got some work to do.”

The other man didn't put up any protest, and Ianto supposed that they were both more than fine with not sharing the bed for the night, much too intimate despite what they had done just a few minutes ago. “'Kay,” Jack murmured, his speech slurred with impending sleep. 

Nodding, Ianto stood up, carding his hands through Jack's hair, and then left to go grab a shower before throwing himself into more work.

 

The next morning – it was surprisingly late as Jack awoke –, he found Ianto in the living room, already completely dressed (or almost; shockingly, he was still without a tie), sitting at the breakfast table. He was on the phone, setting up some dinner for the evening with somebody. Sounded like business, so Jack didn't want to pry. Uncertainly, he stepped closer, tying the belt of the hotel bathrobe he wore a little tighter, the prospect of breakfast making him overcome his uncharacteristic shyness though. He didn't want to disturb Ianto, mind you, but there was so much food on the table, and Ianto didn't eat anything from it, so he simply dared to presume...

That was when Ianto spied him. He smiled at him, and motioned to the set table while continuing his conversation. Relieved, Jack gladly sat down, and first slowly, but then heartily tucked in. He barely noticed Ianto ending the call eventually, he was so preoccupied with eating.

“Good morning,” Ianto chuckled.

“Morning,” Jack grinned between bites. 

“Slept well?”

“Oh yeah. Much too good,” Jack admitted. “I completely forgot where I was.”

“Occupational hazard?” Ianto asked, and got up.

“You could say that,” he smiled ruefully. “You?”

“Eh, yeah, a little, on the couch.” 

Jack made a non-committal noise, refusing to feel bad because he had gotten the bed, and Ianto as the paying customer only the couch.

Once more, he felt Ianto's eyes fastened on him, so, he didn't look up, instead focussing his own gaze greedily on what more was on offer beside scrambled eggs and bacon. His heart skipped a beat as his gaze fell onto a plate with pancakes decorated with strawberries. Wicked. He couldn't wait to tell Rose. 

“You don't have to rush through breakfast,” the younger man told him with a frown.

“What?” Now, Jack looked up, but Ianto had already turned his back on him. “No, no, I'm just a little hungry, is all. But...” He let his gaze slide over the mobile and a few papers lying next to Ianto's plate. “I see you're awfully busy, so I'd really better hurry to get out of your hair.”

“No, really. Please, enjoy your breakfast. I insist.”

“Oh well,” Jack chuckled, shovelling more food into his mouth. “If you insist.”

Ianto puttered around some more at the other side of the table, but Jack only took notice of him again when he felt a presence beside him.

“Et voilà,” Ianto said with a flourish, and presented Jack with a steaming cup of coffee he put down beside his plate. Jack blinked at it for a moment in confusion, putting down his fork before he recalled their deal the night before. His gaze flitted up, and indeed spied a huge coffee machine sitting on a cart beside the table. He shook his head with a chuckle. The rich and their quirks. But hey, he wouldn't complain because the smell that wafted up to him from the steaming mug was, well, heaven. Simple as that. 

Eagerly, he picked the cup up, and took his first careful sip. He moaned ecstatically, causing Ianto to blush who was watching Jack closely, hidden partly behind the morning newspaper.

“And?” he asked impatiently, a smug, self-assured note already colouring his voice. 

Jack wanted to tease him, wanted to wipe the smug look off the other man's face, but there was nothing to this coffee that he could use as ammunition. It was simply too perfect. Instead, he decided to drop all the bravado and the masks, and smiled earnestly at Ianto. “It's really fantastic. Thank you. You've spoilt me for any other coffee on this world though. I hope you know what you have done.”

“That's why I never let people participate on my coffee,” Ianto admitted, lowering the newspaper, a surprisingly boyish grin spreading over his face that made him look ten years younger. “I could never live with the knowledge that I've gotten somebody hooked on my coffee.”

Jack laughed even though inside, he reeled as he realised what Ianto had said. He never shared his coffee with anybody? But why did he share it with Jack?

Shakily, his gaze fell onto the empty plate before Ianto. “Don't you eat?” he asked to quickly change the topic.

“I'm not very hungry in the morning.”

“Hm, you don't sleep, you don't do drugs. You don't drink.” Jack looked pointedly at the empty plate before Ianto. “And you don't eat.”

Ianto grinned ruefully at him. 

“So, what  _ do _ you do? You never told me what you're actually doing last night,” Jack remarked interested. “One thing's for sure, you're not a lawyer.”

“That's right,” Ianto laughed.

“So, what do you do?”

“I buy companies,” Ianto replied readily.

“What kind of companies?”

“Well, I buy companies that are in financial difficulty.”

Jack cocked his head. “If they have trouble, you must get 'em for a bargain, huh?”

A small grin tugged at the corners of Ianto's mouth. “Hm, well, the company I'm buying this week I'm getting for the bargain price of about one billion.”

Jack started coughing as a piece of pancake got down wrong. “A billion pounds?” he choked.

“Yes.”

“Wow.” Once more, Jack cocked his head to scrutinise Ianto. “You're awfully young to run a company like that. Are you some kind of wunderkind?”

“Something like that,” Ianto chuckled, but then he became more serious. “I was groomed from an early age well enough for this job, I think.”

Jack contemplated this with a frown. “Did you want to do something else?”

Ianto leaned back, completely relaxed for once much to his surprise. “Yeah,” he admitted, even more surprised. “I wanted to become a fashion designer.”

A bright grin spread over Jack's face at that image. “'S not hard to imagine, the way you dress.” He let his eyes rake over Ianto's three-piece suit clad body, making the younger man blush for the first time in their acquaintance. He hastened to continue his story. “My grandfather was a master tailor, and when I was a child, I watched him work all the time. It was fascinating.”

Jack smiled indulgently. “My grandfather was a Captain in the RAF during the London Blitz. I always wanted to be a captain when he told me about his adventures.”

They both laughed softly at the image, and enjoyed the deep connection that they both felt for a moment.

“What happened?” Jack asked eventually, very well knowing that he shouldn't lest it made Ianto ask questions as well. Which he didn't want to answer.

“My father.” Ianto shrugged, but he didn't quite manage to hide the wistful sigh that passed his lips. “He decided I was to become his successor, and here I am.”

“I'm sorry,” Jack said softly. 

Ianto shrugged bravely. “It's my life. I don't know any better.”

“Still,” Jack insisted, then he abruptly shut up. He knew all about unreachable dreams, but he wasn't prepared to do Ianto the same courtesy he had done him, and speak about his past. 

 

The billion pound thing didn't want to leave him though, and so, after breakfast, he followed Ianto into the bathroom where the younger man was just in the process of tieing his tie. 

“So... you don't actually have a billion quid, huh?”

“No, I get some of it from banks, investors, and such.”

Boldly, Jack squeezed between Ianto and the sink, and hopped up on to it, drawing Ianto between his thighs. “Let me,” he asked before he picked up their conversation again as well as the ends of Ianto's half fastened tie. “And you don't make anything?”

“No.”

“And you don't built anything?”

“No.”

“Then, what do you do with the companies once you buy them?”

“I sell them.”

“Okay...”

“I don't sell the whole company,” Ianto amended. “I break it up into pieces, and then I sell that off. It's worth more than the whole.”

Jack's gaze brightened in understanding. “So, it's sort of like stealing cars, and selling 'em for the parts, right?”

Ianto sighed exasperated. “Yeah, sort of. But legal.”

“Well, that's open for discussion,” Jack stated. “A conman is a conman.”

“Oh thanks for your good opinion of me,” Ianto pouted in mock-outrage, but Jack only smiled up at him much too innocently.

“There,” he said instead, taking his hands from Ianto's tie. “Now it's perfect.”

“Not bad. Where did you learn to do that?” Ianto admired the knot of the tie in the mirror while Jack hopped down from the sink again to get Ianto's suit jacket.

“I screwed the debate team in high school,” he answered cheekily, practically feeling Ianto's exasperated look. 

“My grandfather,” he amended. “He liked ties on Sundays, and taught me. Not much use for a tie where I come from otherwise.” He brushed off some imaginable lint from Ianto's shoulders, simply enjoying touching the other man. Hastily, he pulled his hands away again. “Mind if I take a swim in your tub before I go?”

“Not at all, just stay in the shallow end,” Ianto replied drily, and then exited the bathroom.

 

Ianto heard the splashing of water faintly in the bathroom, somehow more interested in that at the moment than Harry's voice confirming his business dinner tonight with Wilfred Mott. He could multitask after all.

“Mott is bringing his granddaughter,” Harry told him. “He's grooming her to take over, I think.”

Ianto chuckled. “Ah, yes, very fierce young lady named Donna.”

Harry snorted. “You come prepared like always, why do I tell you anything any more? Anyway, I don't like you going alone. Mott is a sneaky bastard.”

Just in that moment, a by now familiar tenor sounding from the bathroom made Ianto stop in his tracks. He went to investigate, listening to Harry with only one ear about bringing a nice date tonight to keep the whole impending disaster social. Ianto nodded, and pushed open the door.

“Ianto? Do you hear me?” Harry asked irritated, but Ianto was mesmerised by the sight before him.

“Yeah, I'm here...”

“What's that noise?” Harry asked even more irritated.

“Housekeeping is singing,” Ianto replied smoothly.

“Aha. Anyway. Who will you bring to dinner tonight? I know some nice girls, or boys if you'd rather. I could introduce you.” 

“No need,” Ianto said, watching the other man in the tub, spellbound. “I already have someone.”

He ignored Harry's curious “Who?”, and simply ended the call. Putting away his phone, he left his watching place inside the door frame, and bridged the distance between him and Jack. He stood beside the huge tub, and watched Jack with some amusement for a few further moments, uninterrupted by bothersome lawyers on the phone. The other man still hadn't noticed his presence since he wore headphones that he had plugged into an old, battered MP3-player, and was lost in the music while singing along to it with his eyes closed. He was quite good, Ianto had to admit, already having noticed that fact last night.

The song neared its climax, and Jack prepared to shine, taking in a deep breath, but once more, his hackles rose as he felt watched. Opening his eyes, he met Ianto's amused gaze watching him, and his voice trailed of.

“Don't you just love Madonna,” Jack grinned sheepishly, pulling the headphones from his ears.

“More than anything,” Ianto chuckled dryly. 

“Don't you ever knock?” Jack asked with an irritated laugh.

“Jack...” Ianto took in a deep breath, having come to a decision. “I have a business proposition for you.”

Jack perked up at that, cocking an interested eyebrow.

“I'm gonna be in town until Sunday, and I'd like you to spend the week with me.”

Jack blinked. Had he heard right? “Really?”

“Yes.”

A beaming smile broke out onto Jack's face.

“I'd like to hire you as an employee. Would you consider spending the week with me?”

Jack just laughed giddily at him, unable to say something for the moment, so Ianto continued to lay out his plans. “I will pay you to be at my beck and call twenty-four-seven.”

Finally, Jack got his shit together, and was able to give an educated answer. “Of course I'd love to be your beck-and-call boy, but, um, you're a rich, good-looking guy. You could get a million girls or boys for free that are much younger than me, more suitable.”

Ianto didn't like Jack running himself down, probably without even really noticing. “I appreciate professionals,” he therefore stated confidently. “I don't need any romantic hassle this week.”

Somehow, that comment stung, but Jack shoved it roughly aside to concentrate on the really important things here. “If you're talkin' 24 hours a day, it's gonna cost you.”

“Oh, really,” Ianto chuckled. “All right, give me a ballpark figure. How much?”

Jack bit his lip, thinking furiously. “Six full nights, days too... Four thousand.”

“Six nights at 300 is 1,800,” Ianto shot back immediately. 

“You want days, too,” Jack shot back equally as fast.

“Two thousand.”

“Three thousand.”

“Done.”

They stared at each other for a second before Jack broke out into a victorious whoop of joy, and then he let himself sink under the sudsy water.

Amused, Ianto leaned onto the edge of the huge bathtub. “Jack?” No reaction. He tried louder. “Jack, is that a yes?”

Jack's knees broke through the surface, and he stomped his feet a few times on the bottom of the tub before finally, the rest of him emerged as well again, his whole face covered with suds. “Yes,” he mumbled, his mouth full of bubbles. Ianto grabbed a towel, and swapped it at his face.

“Yes,” the older man repeated more clearly, a bright grin splitting his face almost in two. 

 

“I'll be gone most of the day,” Ianto explained after Jack had climbed out of the bathtub, and followed him into the bedroom. “I want you to buy some clothes.” He pressed a thick stack of banknotes into Jack's hand.

“You really should think about traveller's cheques,” he chuckled, and rolled the money up, stowing it in the pocket of his bathrobe.

“We may be going out in the evenings,” Ianto continued undeterred. “You'll need something suitable to wear.”

“Like what?”

Ianto threw him a pointed look over his shoulder while he started packing up his papers that were scattered over the desk and breakfast table. “Nothing too flashy, not too sexy. Conservative, got it?”

“Boring.”

“Elegant.”

Jack smirked. “I can take you for an example.”

Ianto gave him a dry look. “Would be advisable, yes.”

“Got it.”

“Any questions?”

“Can I call you Ian?” Jack asked cheekily.

“Not if you expect an answer.” Ianto breezed through the room towards the door, mentally checking if he had everything. 

“I would have stayed for 2,000.”

Jack's words stopped him in his tracks. Smugly, he turned around and came back to him, leaning closer to his face to whisper confidentially, “I would've paid four. See you tonight.”

He hesitated once more, his hand resting on the handle of the suite's door when Jack spoke again. “Baby, I'm gonna treat you so nice, you're never gonna wanna let me go.”

Ianto stood in the open doorway, contemplating the smug man for a moment. “Three thousand for six days? And, Jack, I  _will_ let you go.”

And with that, he was out the door.

Staring at the closed door for a few more seconds, Jack smiled into the silence. All of a sudden, a giddy rush grabbed him, and he started to giggle uncontrollably, running through the suite into the bedroom to throw himself onto the bed spread-eagled. He screamed into the pillow in mad joy, lying still for a moment to catch his breath, not really believing his luck yet. He sat up again abruptly though to grab the phone from beside the bed to dial the number of their flat.

His knee  wobbling up and down with nerves, finally, finally, Rose picked up, sounding completely groggy.

“Finally!” Jack cried.

“Mum?”

Jack rolled his eyes. “No. Jack.”

“Oh.” Rose perked up, sounding noticeably more awake. “Where are you? Are you all right?”

“Hold your hat. Remember the guy with the Aston Martin? I'm in his hotel room. The penthouse. His bathroom is bigger than our whole flat, can you imagine!”

“Do I have to hear this?” Rose sounded still groggy.

Jack rolled his eyes again. “Rose, he wants me to stay the whole week. And you know what he's gonna give me? Guess. You'll never guess. Three thousand quid!”

“Bullshit!” Rose cried, shell-shocked. 

“I swear to God, and extra money to buy clothes.”

“Oh man, I'm so proud of you! Told you he's into you. Three thousand. Really? Is he twisted? More twisted than you that is?”

They both chuckled.

“No,” Jack replied, relaxing back on the mattress, putting his feet against the headboard. 

“Ugly?”

“He's cute.”

“So, what's wrong with him?”

“Nothing,” Jack cried defensively. “Bit young for me maybe.”

“Did he give you the money yet?”

“The end of next week.”

“Aha! Knew there was a catch.”

“Well, he already gave me three-hundred for last night, and Rose, I'm gonna leave some at the front desk for you. Come pick it up. I'm at the Dorchester. Write it down.”

He heard Rose absent-mindedly brushing her teeth while she was on the phone with him. “Are you writing it down? You'll forget it.”

“Yeah, yeah, done.”

“Good.” A bright grin spread over Jack's face. “Now, excuse me, I've gotta go clothes shopping.”

 

After he'd deposited most of the money at the front desk for Rose, Jack strolled out of the hotel, embracing his quest to find something suitable for dinner tonight. His way led him into Bond Street, although not far from his own home, a completely different world for Jack nonetheless. Excited, he started to browse the windows, his heart skipping a beat at all the fabulous clothes displayed in the windows of the boutiques. And what was best, for once, he didn't have to look at the prices at all!

Giddy, he picked a little boutique for men's fashion not long after he had started wandering around, his heart almost bursting from his chest at the prospect of going to go shopping to his heart's content.

Curiously, he looked around in the nice little shop, seeing a few things already that may be suitable for tonight.

“May I help you?”

Jack looked up from his browsing as a rather aloof male voice addressed him. “I'm just checking things out, thanks.”

“Are you looking for something in particular?”

“No... Well, yeah,” he amended. “Um, I need something conservative.”

“I imagine,” the boutique assistant drawled without batting an eye. He followed Jack around coolly as he strolled through the shop.

“You got nice stuff.”

“Thank you.”

“How much is this?” he asked, pointing at a suit that was looking quite good on the mannequin. 

“I don't think this would fit you.”

Jack started, frowning. “I didn't ask if it would fit. I asked how much it was.”

“How much is this, Donald?” The boutique assistant asked a colleague. 

“It's _very_ expensive,” he stressed, his arms crossed before his chest.

“It's very expensive,” the first man passed on, looking down his nose at Jack as if he was vermin. 

He straightened his spine. “I don't care, I have enough money.”

“I don't think we have anything for you,” the man brushed him off, standing next to his colleague in a united front. “You're obviously in the wrong place. Please leave.”

Thunderstruck, Jack stared at them, but then, he swallowed down his hurt forcibly, and left the boutique.

Like a beaten dog with its tail between its legs, he started to make his way back to the hotel dejectedly.

 

Quickly crossing the hotel lobby, Jack just wanted to go up to his room and bury himself there in self-pity, but suddenly, a man, not much younger than he, rushed up to him.

“Excuse me, Sir. May I help you?”

“I'm just going to my room,” he answered curtly.

“Do you have a key?”

That made Jack stop short abruptly. “Damn. I forgot that plastic card.” He turned to the man who eyed him seriously. “I'm on the top floor.”

“You're a guest here?”

“I'm with a friend,” he answered a little lamely. 

“Oh? And who would that be?”

“Ianto.”

“Ianto?”

Come on, man, he thought desperately. There couldn't be that many Ianto's in this hotel. Embarrassingly, he'd forgotten Ianto's surn...

“Jones. Ianto Jones!” Thank God. And with that, he marched to the elevators confidently, but the mysterious man rushed after him to intercept him. He grabbed him by his arm, and forced a loudly protesting Jack into an office with gentle force. 

Mulishly, Jack let himself fall into the chair before the desk.

“I am John Smith, the hotel manager,” the man introduced himself, adjusting his ridiculous bow-tie proudly. “What is your name?”

“What do you want it to be?” Jack retorted almost bored.

Hard eyes out of an otherwise friendly looking face fixed onto him. “Don't play with me, Sir.”

“Jack.”

“Thank you, Jack.” Smith propped himself against his desk opposite Jack so that he could look down onto him. “Well, Sir, things that go on in other hotels don't happen at the Dorchester. Now, Mr. Jones, however, is a very special costumer, and we'd like to think of our special customers as friends.”

Jack rolled his eyes defiantly, and looked away.

Smith continued undeterred. “Now, as a customer, we would expect Mr. Jones to sign in any additional guests, but as a friend, we're willing to overlook it. Now, I'm assuming that you're a...” His gaze bore into Jack. “Relative?”

“Yes,” he answered softly. 

“Mmhm, thought so. Then you must be his...”

“Uncle?”

“Of course. Naturally, when Mr. Jones leaves, I won't see you in this hotel again.”

Jack couldn't help but roll his eyes again.

“I assume you have no other nephews here?”

Mutely, Jack shook his head.

“Good.” Smith looked much more cheerful all of a sudden. “Then we understand each other. I would also encourage you to dress a little more appropriately. That'd be all.” He politely indicated the door.

“No,” Jack protested, digging out the crumbled bank notes from his leather jacket, “that's not all. That's what I was trying to do. I've been to Bond Street already today to buy a suit, but the men in that shop wouldn't help me. I have all this money now, but no suit.” He presented the balled up money to Smith, and pressed it into his hands, getting worked up over the situation more and more. “Not that I expect you to help me, but I have all of this, okay? And I have to buy a suit for dinner tonight, and nobody will help me.”

He felt himself tearing up, and he hated that he was such a sissy, but he couldn't help himself. He was way out of his league here which made him completely helpless. Surprised, he took the handkerchief Smith offered him with a small “thank you”, and blew his nose forcibly. The manager gave him the money back, but didn't want his handkerchief returned. Instead, he went over to his desk again, and picked up the phone.

“Oh great. You wanna call the cops, yeah, just do that. That's... that's great.” He started to tremble over his whole body, completely at his wits end. He didn't even have Ianto's mobile number so that he could call him for help. 

Smith calmly waited for his call to be put through, looking down thoughtfully at the man who was sitting here in his office, looking so utterly dejected, but a moment later, he absent-mindedly started to adjust his bow-tie and brush his hand through his hair as if to make himself presentable for whomever he was calling.

“Fashion department. Yes, River, please.”

Startled, Jack gaped at the other man, gingerly daring to hope again.

“River!” Smith suddenly cried excited, clearly telling Jack that this never ever was a simple professional relationship. “Yes, it's me. Listen, I'd like you to do me a favour, please. I'm sending someone over. His name is Jack. He's a special guest. He's the uncle of a very special guest.”

Jack tried to hide the grateful smile that started to creep onto his face.

 

As it turned out, the mysterious River Smith send Jack to was head of the fashion department at Harrods. Jack immediately liked her, the cheeky, even naughty twinkle in her eyes reminding him of himself somehow.

“What are your plans while you're in town?” she got down to business professionally which Jack quite liked about her. 

“We're gonna have dinner.” He slowly started to relax, and wanted to perch himself on the counter.

“Oh, don't sit up there!” River cried, and he jumped away from the glass counter. Right, not so bright idea. He smiled sheepishly at her.

She simply chuckled good-naturedly. “So, you're going out?”

Jack nodded.

River smiled at him. “Then we're talking informal dress code here. Come with me, we'll find something dashing for you that I'm sure your nephew will love.”

“River, he's not really my nephew.”

“They never are, sweetie.”

 

Jack skidded to a halt, weaselling himself between Smith and some Japanese chaps talking insistently to him. The poor guy needed rescuing anyway.

“John! I got a suit.” Excitedly, he indicated the suit bag he'd slung over his shoulder.

“Well, I'd rather hoped you'd be wearing it,” Smith replied dryly, but his sarcasm went right over Jack's head.

“Oh, no. I don't wanna get it messed up. Listen, I got shoes, too. And a waistcoat like Ianto. He'll love this. You wanna see?”

“No, that won't be necessary, I'm sure they're quite lovely. Thank you.”

“Okay, listen. I didn't mean to interrupt you, but River was really great, and I just wanted to say thanks. You're cool.”

Smith's expression softened somewhat. “You're welcome, Sir.”

 

Half an hour later, Jack rushed up to Smith once more, panic written all over his face.

The manager's pointed gaze travelled down Jack's body who still wore his old clothes. “It didn't fit.”

“Oh, no, no, that's not it... Uh, I've got a little problem.”

And so, Jack found himself in the empty dining room of the Dorchester with John Smith trying to inculcate proper use of silverware and table manners in him.

By the time they were done, Jack's head was reeling, images of forks with three tines, four and whatever tines buzzing around in his head only to morph into one giant mess of forks. He was almost glad that it was time to get ready for this mysterious business dinner.

 

Ianto hurried into the hotel, already a little late, cursing himself for it. His gaze flitted left and right, trying to spot Jack, but to no avail. Well, he'd have to look more closely after he'd brought up his briefcase.

“Pardon me, Mr. Jones.”

Irritated, he looked at the tall man wearing a bow-tie that had suddenly appeared beside him. “I'm Mr. Smith. I'm the manager of the hotel.”

“Uh-huh, excuse me. I just wanna make a call,” Ianto tried to brush him off, but the man was persistent.

“Yes, I'm sorry. I have a message for you, Sir.”

“From whom?” Ianto asked distractedly, stopping before one of the hotel's intern phones in the lobby, trying to remember the number to the penthouse.

“From your uncle, Sir.”

Ianto stopped dialling, blinking at Smith. “My what?”

“The gentleman who's staying with you in your room, Sir,” Smith explained softly.

Chuckling dryly, Ianto put down the phone again. “I think we both know that he's not my uncle.”

“Of course, Sir,” Smith answered stiffly.

“The reason I know that is that my parents both were only children.”

“Yes, Sir.”

“What's the message?”

“He's waiting for you in the lounge.”

Pleased, Ianto nodded.

“Intriguing gentleman, Mister Jack.”

Once again, Ianto stopped in his tracks to look at Smith strangely. “Intriguing,” he murmured softly. A very fitting word to describe Jack indeed, he decided.

“Have a good evening, Sir.”

Smiling indulgently to himself, Ianto nodded absent-mindedly. “Thank you, Mr...”

“Smith. I'm the...”

“Smith.” Ianto nodded, and breezed right passed the other man.

“Manager. Of the hotel, Sir.”

But Ianto had already rushed away, simply depositing his briefcase at the front desk. He caught himself at hastening his steps on the way to the lounge.

He looked around, quite a few guests were already lingering about, but there wasn't any trace of Jack. He turned around, looking at every face he found there, and finally, he turned back towards the bar.

And there he was.

Ianto gulped while his eyes threatened to pop from their sockets as he stared at Jack. He wore a beautiful dark-blue suit, his tie and the handkerchief tugged into his breast pocket a stunning cyan. Gone were the heavy boots, the flimsy shirt or the obscenely tight leather trousers with their slitted sides (which, Ianto had to admit, he'd quite liked).

Smiling indulgently, Jack elegantly slid from the bar stool, and crossed the room until he stood before Ianto.

“You're late,” Jack reproached mildly, but he smiled.

“You look stunning,” Ianto breathed, awed.

Jack beamed at him. “You're forgiven.”

Ianto offered Jack his arm. “Shall we go to dinner?”

Smiling a little shyly and insecurely, Jack put his hand into the crook of Ianto's arm, and let himself be led away to dinner.

 

The restaurant Ianto had chosen was an awfully fancy French place where one chair cost more than Jack's whole furniture, he estimated.

Trying not to fidget too much – or feel out of place –, Jack followed Ianto and the waiter to their table. Ianto's guests were already waiting for them.

This Mr. Mott Ianto was meeting (apparently to buy his bankrupt firm which promised to lead to some explosive situations tonight) was an old man that reminded Jack of his grandfather. He liked him at once. Mott's granddaughter, Donna, was a feisty redhead who, despite her elegant cocktail dress giving her the appearance of a lady, made no secret of what she thought of Ianto's plans to disrupt her grandfather's life work, not mincing matters in the slightest even if she was somewhat curtailed by Jack's presence that made her blush. Jack had to hide his grin. Under other circumstances, they surely would have gotten along splendidly. But it wasn't his place to like or not like Ianto's business acquaintances.

All in all, Jack thought it went quite well... Okay, despite making a fool of himself with the silverware (no matter Mott's subtle attempts to help him with that) as well as these fucking slippery snails Ianto had ordered. And yeah, at the end, emotions had boiled over between Ianto and Mott, but it could have gone worse. Kinda.

Nonetheless, Jack was glad when they eventually returned to the hotel.

When he returned from the bathroom, glad to be out of his suit, he looked for Ianto, and found him on the balcony.

“Thought you don't come out here,” he teased gently.

“I'm only halfway out,” Ianto replied impassively.

Jack shook his head fondly, watching the man stubbornly perching on his chair that still stood inside the room with one leg. He hopped up on to the balustrade.

“You were so quiet on the way home,” he remarked softly, scrutinising Ianto intently. “You thinking about dinner? Yeah, I messed up, but the business was good, I think.”

“Why do you think that?”

“He's in trouble, you want his company. He doesn't wanna let it go. So far so business-like.”

“Thanks for the recap,” Ianto drawled.

“Problem is though, I think you like Mr. Mott.”

“What I would like is for you to get down from there,” Ianto bristled. “You're making me very nervous.”

“Really? What if I just lean back a little bit like this?” Jack leaned back teasingly, nothing but the gaping abyss behind him. “Would you rescue me if I fell?”

“Jack, I'm serious!” Ianto averted his gaze, slightly pale around his nose which was noticeable even from where Jack was. “I can't look at this...”

“It's really high, look. No hands... All right, I'm sorry.” He straightened up again, his attempts to cheer Ianto up having backfired, but at least he was agitated now because of Jack's recklessness, not because of the situation with Mott.

“The truth is,” Ianto mused, “it's really totally irrelevant whether I like this man or not.”

Okay, maybe not.

“I will not let myself become emotionally involved in business,” he stated steadfastly. 

“I know what you mean. Rose's always saying to me, 'Don't get emotional when you turn tricks'. That's why no kissing. It's too personal.”

Ianto nodded in complete understanding.

“It's like what you're saying. You stay numb, you don't get involved. When I'm with a guy, I'm like a robot. I just do it.”

He froze as he noticed what he'd said, and peeked at Ianto who was looking at him with a pointedly raised eyebrow.

“Well,” he stammered sheepishly, “I mean, except with you.”

“Of course not with me.”

Jack didn't like the sardonic note in Ianto's voice. He wanted to make it clear to him that he hadn't just said that because Ianto paid him a lot of money, but because it was the truth. He hadn't felt like that in years when he was with Ianto. So... alive. Cherished. Like a human being. To be truthful, Jack wasn't sure if he'd ever felt like that in his live. The time he'd spend with his grandfather had come close, but of course, it was not the same.

He shook his head. No emotions, Ianto had just said it, said what he wanted from all the business relationships he had. Even if it stung somehow, Jack would accept that because it was what he wanted as well.

Hopping down from the balustrade, he stood before Ianto uneasily, not quite knowing what to say. The younger man looked up at him calmly. “You and I,” he eventually said, “are such similar creatures, Jack. We both screw people for money.”

“Yeah.” Jack nodded softly, crossing his arms before his chest in a defensive gesture. “I was sorry to hear about your dad. I just didn't want to say in the restaurant.”

Ianto accepted his condolences with a nod.

“When did he die?”

“Last month.”

Way to go, Harkness, but he shouldered on. “Despite what you have told me... Do you miss him?”

Ianto didn't look at him as he answered, seemingly lost deep in thought. “I hadn't spoken to him in almost five years. Not after I had taken over the Cardiff branch of the company. I wasn't there when he died.”

Uneasy silence settled between them after the younger man had trailed off. It was unbearable. Jack was good in not talking about things himself, but he couldn't stand this awkward silence. “Do you wanna talk about this?”

Ianto's piercing blue eyes snapped up to him. “Just as well as you want to talk about your past.”

Jack pressed his lips together. “You noticed.”

“Yeah.”

“'Kay. Touché.”

“Let's not talk about anything, okay?”

“All right. Probably better. No emotional hassle, right.”

“Right.”

“Well, then... let's watch some TV, yeah? Maybe they bring one of the classics again.” Jack tried to pull Ianto up and inside, but the younger man resisted his attempts despite smiling about Jack's sudden eagerness. 

“I don't want to watch TV tonight, Jack.” He now stood up on his own attempts, and strode back inside. 

He stopped, and Jack almost ran into him on his way inside. He turned around to face him with a quizzical look on his face.

“Have you slept with women?” Ianto blushed, and immediately averted his eyes for being so forward. “'S just... You made a very good impression on Miss Noble.”

Jack shrugged, but didn't see anything wrong with answering Ianto's interested question. “Not many women browse the streets looking for a dirty lay. They have more inhibitions when it comes to that. They rather order someone into the privacy of their homes if at all. But sure. I did everyone who paid me.” He frowned, pained, but the corners of his mouth twitched. “Even was caught up in a hen night once. I tell you, beware of women in packs!”

Ianto couldn't help but giggle at the image, Jack soon joining in.

But all too soon, Ianto became serious once more. “I'm going downstairs for a while. Don't wait up for me.”

Jack watched him leave the room, sighing heavily.

 

Groggily, Jack looked at the clock, his eyes almost falling shut. Almost three in the morning already. Thankfully Breakfast at Tiffany's was just coming to an end, so he could finally switch off the TV. It had been fun watching the old movies, but at the back of his mind, there was that nagging little part of him that couldn't concentrate on the films because it was waiting for Ianto.

Sighing, he stumbled up and over to the phone to call reception for Ianto's whereabouts. What was the man doing down there if he wasn't drinking? Maybe, he'd gone for a walk?

His heart skipped a beat when the woman at the reception desk told him that Mr. Jones was still at the lounge.

Suddenly awake again, Jack pulled the bathrobe belt tighter, and left the room. He was lucky, the same elevator boy who'd had night shift on Jack's first night here was there again, and he eagerly brought Jack down, and together, they scurried through the lobby, smuggling Jack in just his bathrobe towards the lounge.

Once inside, he stopped being nervous. There were no guests here any more, the chairs had already been put up for the night. Only some guys of the cleaning staff were milling about, more listening to the piano than working.

The guy playing the piano so masterfully turned out to be Ianto Jones to Jack's immense surprise.

He came to a stop behind him so as not to disturb his play, all the while he felt the curious gazes of the staff on his person. Well. A guest coming down to the lounge in the middle of the night in his bathrobe probably was something the Dorchester hadn't seen that often.

The song Ianto was playing, a jazzy kind of piece that was familiar to Jack somehow, came to an end. The men in the room applauded softly as Ianto's slender fingers stilled on the keys, the young man thanking them politely, and only then did Jack dare to come around into his line of sight.

“I didn't know you played,” Jack smiled, leaning against the piano.

“I only play for strangers,” Ianto replied. “But maybe... we could do something together one day. I love your singing voice.”

An involuntary flush of pleasure spread over Jack's cheeks. “I'd love that.” He shuffled nearer, stopping close beside Ianto so that he could reach out to tenderly brush his fingers through his hair. “I was getting lonely upstairs all by myself,” he whispered.

The look Ianto was giving him was intense in an otherwise composed face. He looked long and hard at Jack before he turned to the other men in the room. “Gentlemen, would you mind leaving us, please?” His voice was soft and polite, but nonetheless, everybody obeyed his command.

Jack's heart started to pound like mad in his chest. He knew what would happen here and now. Ianto knew it, too, as well as the cleaning staff leaving the lounge. It made excitement sizzle through his whole body. Willingly, he let Ianto put his hands on Jack's hips after they had been left alone, and let himself be pulled between Ianto's thighs. He fancied that he could feel the heat of Ianto's hands through the thick bathing robe as they kneaded at Jack's hips, a concentrated but far-away look on his face.

“Do people always do what you want them to?” Jack teased, but his teasing fell flat, his voice hoarse with anticipation. 

Ianto didn't answer. He simply undid Jack's robe as if in a trance. If he was surprised or appalled that Jack was naked underneath, he didn't bat an eye, and, to be truthful, Jack didn't believe he was. He'd come to understand that Ianto Jones had more hidden depths than his impassive, youthful face and his immaculate suits allowed people to suspect.

For a moment, Ianto let his hands wander over Jack's naked body, not stopping at a particular spot, just touching him, but then, he abruptly stood up, pressing close to Jack. The look he was giving the older man was burning with hunger, and for a moment, Jack thought Ianto would kiss him. He wouldn't have stopped him.

But instead, Ianto put his arms around Jack, and hoisted him up onto the piano. Jack suppressed a surprised noise, not having expected the slender, lightly-muscled man to be that strong. This unexpected show of strength made Jack tremble with lust. Mewling softly, he lay back on the smooth surface of the piano lid, arching up into Ianto's questing hands and lips sliding hotly all over his body. He wrapped his legs around Ianto's waist, pulling him nearer, trapping him, and brought one hand down to fist it in Ianto's hair.

With gentle force, Ianto grabbed Jack's thighs to lose their hold around him, so that he could wriggle lower, his mouth trailing a hot, wet trail down Jack's body. He put the other man's spread legs over his shoulders, and bowed his head over Jack's crotch. Grabbing Jack's straining cock at the base, he playfully pushed his nose against it, inhaling his enticing scent deeply, then touched his lips to the hot skin, peppering the shaft with gentle kisses and licks until Jack writhed under him, and his cock finally hardened completely.

As soon as it was hard enough for Ianto's satisfaction, the younger man drew the throbbing length into his mouth in one go. Jack cried out, and for a split-second, Ianto was afraid what would happen if someone heard them and came to investigate. But the thought vanished again as quickly as it had come. Equally as quickly shoved aside was the realisation that he was sucking Jack off without a condom, but, although he would surely reprimand himself later on for his carelessness, right this moment, he didn't care. He wanted all of Jack, wanted his scent and his taste, not the taste and smell of latex. He wanted to feel him come inside his mouth, the consequences be damned (to be truthful, he trusted Jack; he may be reckless and boisterous, but he wasn't someone who would endanger others, he would have told Ianto if he...).

Since he was not as skilful as Jack when it came to blowjobs, Ianto took his time getting used to the feeling of another man's cock in his mouth again, experimenting some, licking here and sucking there. His efforts couldn't have been that bad if the noises Jack made were any indication. It filled him with a certain pride to satisfy his lover so completely like that.

Jack was still trapped in a state between shock that Ianto would do this for him – and without a condom no less – and scorching arousal. Oh, it had been so, so long since anybody had gone down on him. No costumer would pay for sucking off the hustler instead of the other way round. But Ianto... oh, dear, amazing Ianto, he was something else entirely. Ianto's skills were a little rusty which told him a lot about what had gone on between him and this Alonso, but he made up for it with enthusiasm. Spurring him on with murmured praise and encouragements, Jack once more let his hands slide into Ianto's thick dark hair, fingering the short strands to divert himself from getting too carried away and thrusting up into Ianto's mouth. He didn't want to hurt the younger man.

But apparently, Ianto noticed his restraint, and would have none of it. Letting Jack's erection slide from his mouth with a wet, obscene noise, his lips already red and swollen from his ministrations, he turned up challenging eyes towards Jack. “Come on,” he taunted. “Don't hold back.”

Jack nodded shakily, and even if he had still wanted to, he wouldn't have had the power to hold back. The moment Ianto sealed his lips once more tightly over Jack's cock, drawing him into his mouth as deeply as he could and sucking, Jack was lost. He allowed his hips small, aborted thrusts into Ianto's mouth, his chest heaving as he tried to suck in enough air into his lungs, raising his arms above his head, away from Ianto's head to give the other man free reign completely. Still swallowing every once and again around Jack's length before he had to let go for breath again, Ianto brought one hand down to firmly massage Jack's balls. The other wriggled up Jack's sweat-slick stomach up to his hairless chest, seeking out a hard nipple. Jack cried out as his sensitive nipple was fondled and pinched and rolled between Ianto's fingers.

“Ianto,” Jack suddenly gasped, and put his hand to Ianto's head, trying to push him off him. “I'm gonna...”

But Ianto ignored his babbling, and instead intensified his sucking, encouraging him to freely thrust into his mouth. Suddenly, Jack's hips snapped up for one last time before they came to a stuttering halt. Then, as Jack's jerking cock started spurting hot come, he let out a low, drawn-out moan, suspended in the throes of a full body-shudder, arching up into Ianto's mouth.

Ianto trembled over his whole body with unslaked lust as Jack spend himself inside his mouth. Without hesitating, he swallowed the offering.

“Don't...” Jack stuttered, gasping in shocked breaths as he realised that Ianto had swallowed. Weakly, he sank back, his head reeling.

“Take me to bed,” Ianto begged, his burning eyes looking down onto the trembling man beneath him coming down from his high. Jack nodded jerkily, and sluggishly sat up. Ianto helped him down from the piano without too much noise echoing through the vast room, and he gently fastened Jack's robe again. On wobbly legs, Jack grabbed Ianto's hand, and pulled him from the room, tiptoeing through the deserted lobby, and into the elevator where he met the knowing eyes of the elevator boy, grinning smugly at him without Ianto noticing. 

As the door to the suite banged shut behind them, they were all over each other again, it was like a drug. Jack's bathrobe fell to the ground beside the door, and on their way into the bedroom, Ianto left a trail of hastily shed pieces of clothes.

Jack scrambled onto the bed onto his hands and knees, seductively arching his back, and sticking his ass out provocatively towards Ianto. A low rumble sounded deep in Ianto's chest at the sight, and he pounced.

“Just hurry,” Jack mewled, pressing his ass back against Ianto's crotch, moaning as the stone-hard cock got trapped between his cheeks, rubbing up and down his cleft with every movement Ianto made. Giving a disappointed whine as Ianto pulled back to roll on the condom and slick himself up, Jack brought his hand down between his legs to fist his once more awakening cock impatiently.

A slap from Ianto made him stop.

“Stop that,” the younger man hissed possessively. “You'll come on my cock alone.”

Groaning at Ianto's dominant display, Jack obeyed. “Then get on with it,” he hissed.

“I have to...”

“I'm good. Just do it.” Once more, he pressed back against Ianto demandingly, and this time, Ianto complied. Pressing the head of his cock against Jack's hole, he pushed slowly, watching with bated breath as the head popped through the tight ring of muscle, getting swallowed up inside the hot channel immediately. He shoved forward until he was buried inside Jack balls-deep. He shivered and stayed frozen for a few moments to give both of them time to adjust, but when Jack clenched around him impatiently, Ianto let go of all restraints. He drew back only to snap his hips forward again. They both moaned at the forcefulness of the thrust. As if a dam had broken inside of him, Ianto set up a hard and fast pace, pounding into the older man over and over, eventually hitting his prostate with every powerful stroke. 

Jack's sobs and cries under him were music to his ears, and spurred him on even more. His lover's whole body trembled as his prostate was battered with every thrust, and then, slamming inside Jack one last time almost brutally, Ianto stiffened and came with a drawn-out groan. Jack shuddered, and his breath caught as he came all over the bedding without even being touched.

Exhausted, the two men collapsed onto the bed in a tangle of sweaty limbs and shivering, heaving bodies.

“You should blow me more often in public if it gets you that hot,” Jack panted amused.

Ianto giggled into his shoulder, and wrapped himself around Jack like an octopus. They could clean up in a few minutes. At the moment, he couldn't move a muscle even if he'd have wanted to.

 

“Come on, up you get!”

Jack grumbled. Ianto was much too cheerful so early in the morning, and he hastily tried to bury under the blanket as the window's curtains were parted cruelly.

“Hey!” Jack cried in pouting outrage as Ianto pulled his blanket away. Glaring daggers at him, he peeked up at the other man who, completely dressed, what a surprise, sat down on the corner of the mattress beside him. He waved something about Jack's nose, and with much squinting, Jack realised, it was a credit card. “Time to shop,” Ianto grinned, much too eager for Jack's tastes.

Jack made a grumbling noise which didn't deter Ianto in the slightest. “Now, if you have any trouble with this, have them call the hotel, all right?”

“More shopping?” Jack pouted, and took the card from Ianto.

“Sure. I'm surprised though that you didn't buy more than one suit yesterday.” He flitted a questioning look at Jack while he tied his shoes. 

Jack looked away. “It wasn't as much fun as I thought it was gonna be.”

“Why's that?”

“They were mean to me,” he admitted, not managing to suppress the dejection he still felt about the incident.

Ianto's eyes boggled. “Mean?! To you?!”

Jack nodded.

 

Half an hour later, Ianto dragged him across the streets in the direction of Bond street, Jack reluctantly following. He didn't want to go there again even if he felt slightly better about his appearance since he wore the trousers of his suit again and his shirt. Nonetheless, he could have thought of funnier things to do than go shopping again.

“People are looking at me,” he complained although he knew that there was nothing to object about the way he looked.

“They're looking at you cause you're hot,” Ianto elaborated. 

“I was hot yesterday as well, but the stores are still not nice to people, even hot people. I don't like it,” Jack tried to change Ianto's mind, but the younger man mutely pulled him on, and since Jack didn't want to bodily brace himself against Ianto's hold, he had no choice but to go along. 

“Vital lesson: Stores are never nice to people, they are nice to credit cards.”

They stopped before a rather large boutique, thankfully not the one Jack had been in yesterday. Ianto turned towards him. “Okay, stop fidgeting. You'll be fine.”

“All right.” 

 

Inside, it wasn't as horrible as Jack had feared, but nonetheless, he let Ianto handle the manager of the store by making it clear to him that he wanted to spend an obscene amount of money here. Jack chuckled at the dreamy look suddenly passing over the manager's face at the prospect.

“But because of that,” Ianto continued in a sweet voice, “we're gonna need a lot more help sucking up to us, 'cause that's what we really like. You understand me.”

“Oh, Sir,” the manager beamed. “You're in the right store, in the right city, for that matter.”

Ianto nodded, satisfied. “Thought so.”

 

While a flock of eager store assistants including the manager himself descended over poor Jack with dozens of clothes samples, Ianto decided he could as well do some work from here, making a few calls, and see how it went with Mott. Once in a while, he peeked over at Jack who, after overcoming his initial overwhelmed trepidation given the situation, slowly started to get into it, and really began having fun. Satisfied, Ianto nodded curtly, and turned back to his mobile.

After some time though, there were matters coming up that he couldn't solve over his mobile any more; he would have to return to Harry's office.

“Hey.”

Jack turned around at his voice, beaming, and wearing a very dashing casual pin-striped suit.

“I've gotta run. Back to work. You look great.” Being impulsive, he leaned forward, and pecked Jack's cheek. 

Jack wanted to protest, panic welling up in him again, but at the confident smile Ianto threw him, he relaxed again. Come on, Harkness, he chided himself. What are you? Fifteen? Suck it up. You're a smartly dressed man now. Behave accordingly.

He watched longingly as Ianto pocketed his mobile, and purposefully strode to the door. “He has my credit card,” he said to the manager as a parting shot.

“And we'll show him how to use it, Sir.”

 

Completely exhausted, Jack slumped into one of the armchairs, countless shopping bags falling from his powerless fingers to the floor. Though he was trying to catch his breath again, his heart was pounding madly, and a giddy grin seemed plastered to his face permanently.

Since he was still running high on adrenaline, he jumped up again, and started gathering the bags together, piling them all onto the couch. He started unpacking, wanting to admire ev'rything once more.

He'd owned one suit in his life as a boy, and he'd never quite understood why a man would need more than, say, a couple since they were all black or blue or grey anyway. They all looked the same. Now, raking appreciating eyes glowing with happiness over the different kinds of suits – some two-piece, some three-piece since he loved the look on Ianto, and wanted to try for himself –, casual slacks, polo-shirts, shirts in all kinds of colours from subtle to bold, ties, soft jumpers, and not to forget the shoes, he understood. Completely.

Eventually tearing his gaze from his prizes, he went to the bar to get something to drink finally; the only thing he was running on was adrenaline, there hadn't been time to stop for getting something to eat apart from the pizza that had been ordered into one of the shops for him. But that had been hours ago.

Chucking back half a bottle of water, he once more recalled every glorious minute of today, vividly recalling the looks he had attracted on the street, but now, he didn't mind any more because they had been looks of awe and admiration for the incredibly well-dressed, handsome man breezing his way through the stores on Bond Street. But, best of all, he had finally shown those uptight pillocks from yesterday. Packed with shopping bags from expensive stores, donned in a gorgeous new suit, he had marched right into this boutique, passing over these two wankers airily. Oh, their faces when they had recognised him! It was hilarious!

Grinning smugly, he wondered when Ianto would be home.

 

In the early evening, Ianto called to tell him that he was on his way back. He sounded thoughtful, but somehow... relieved. Obviously, there had been some kind of success at work for him. Maybe a breakthrough with Mott. Anyway, he asked if Jack had eaten yet which he hadn't.

“How about some takeaway?” Jack suggested, but hastily amended, “Fancy takeaway.” He could have cheap all the time in Soho.

“I'm afraid, I've never had takeaway,” Ianto confessed on the phone, making Jack splutter.

“You serious?! We have to remedy that immediately. You have to bring some.”

“But what?”

“I like Chinese. Pick something. You know me, I eat ev'rything.”

Ianto chuckled. “Indeed. All right. I'll do my best.”

“If you succeed to my satisfaction, I have a surprise for you,” Jack breathed in a husky voice. He almost could hear Ianto swallow.

“Yeah?” the other man replied, impassive.

“See ya.” And with that, Jack hung up.

 

Ianto must have broken a lot of speed limits to get back because after only twenty minutes, he sauntered into the suite, a huge shopping bag in one hand, a plastic bag with takeaway in the other. Soft music greeted him.

“Jack?”

“Right here,” he called back.

Ianto rounded the corner, and stopped dead in his tracks, almost dropping the food. Jack sat at the laid table. He was facing the entrance area, reclined back in his chair, one leg lazily drawn up against his body. His naked body, that is. The only thing he wore was a very dashing tie around his neck which he caressed with hypnotising movements.

“How was your day, love?”

Ianto swallowed while he couldn't take his eyes from Jack, the food forgotten in his hand. “Nice tie,” he managed impassively.

“I got it for you.” 

“Uh, thanks,” he croaked. Remembering the food, he held up the bag helplessly, putting the other, bigger one on the floor next to him. “Do you want to... or we could...”

Jack grinned mercilessly at him. “Wouldn't want to rob you of your first takeaway-experience. We should eat.” Sitting up straight, Jack settled properly at the table, waiting for Ianto to bring over the food so as if nothing was out of the ordinary.

Not knowing if he should be amused or disappointed (he decided for both), Ianto came over, and, deciding to play Jack's game, started dishing out the food. Then, he sat down opposite him, looking up. Thankfully, most of Jack's enticing bare body was covered by the table, of course, so, for the moment, he could slightly relax, and maybe really concentrate on the food.

Jack watched him all throughout the meal from under lowered lashes, part curiosity about Ianto's reactions, part seducing tactic.

The food was good, Ianto had to admit although he supposed it wasn't quite the real takeaway-experience since they ate from plates and silverware instead out of cardboard boxes and with plastic forks or chopsticks. Maybe they could make up for it another time. But the more time passed, the more squirmy he got. He started becoming overly aware of Jack's presence and the lack of clothing going on here. And Jack didn't even touch him. He stayed on his side of the table – not even groping Ianto under the table –, totally oblivious to his undressed state, and made polite small talk about his day. Through the upcoming fog of lust, Ianto listened with some – okay, a lot – satisfaction to how Jack had gotten back at those dorks at this one boutique. He almost beamed with pride although he probably shouldn't. Jack wasn't a small kid that needed bolstering. On the contrary, he was quite self-confident most of the time, provided he was in an environment where he felt on safe ground...

“You finished?”

Ianto startled and blinked at Jack, confused. “What?”

Jack laughed good-naturedly at him. “I asked if you have finished eating?”

“Oh... yeah, yeah. Sure.”

Almost stumbling in his haste to get up, Ianto let go of all attempts to appear collected. He held out his hand to Jack who happily grasped it. They didn't touch on the way to the bedroom safe for their clasped hands, but once inside, they were all over each other. Clothes (Ianto's, that is) flew left and right until he was as naked as Jack. While he had been stripping the younger man, Jack had latched onto his neck, having the nerve to give him a hickey just barely beneath the edge of his collar. Ianto, feeling the slight sting of it, and interpreting it correctly, growled in mock-outrage, and pushed Jack until the older man tumbled down onto the mattress. Ianto followed him quickly, grabbing with one hand blindly for the lube that sat on the night stand as well as a condom packet.

Grinning, Jack wrestled the surprised young man around and onto his back, quickly straddling him. For one moment, he played with the idea to suck him off like Ianto had done for him not even twenty-four hours ago, but this wasn't what he wanted right now. He needed to feel the younger man slide inside of him, needed to feel him filling him up until he couldn't breath from the pleasure. 

Taking the lube and the condom out of Ianto's unresisting hands, Jack didn't hold himself up with much foreplay. He quickly rolled the condom onto Ianto's cock, and slicked him up. Then, he raised himself up on his knees, and shuffled forward until he was positioned directly above the straining erection. 

Ianto's trembling hands flew to his hips to steady him as well as anchoring himself. His chest heaved with anticipation, and lust-blown eyes stared up at Jack. Grinning winningly at him, Jack sank down onto the younger man, easily taking him inside since he'd already prepared himself beforehand.

Both men moaned throatily as Ianto's stone-hard cock breached the tight ring of muscles of Jack's ass, the older man only stopping when he had taken Ianto completely inside himself, coming to rest on Ianto's lap. They stayed poised like that for a few moments, both enjoying the sensations of fullness, tight heat, and exquisite pleasure coursing through both their bloodstreams. But then, reaching down with shaky hands to loosen Ianto's grip on Jack's hips, only to entwine their fingers, Jack raised himself up, using their clasped hands as leverage. The cock buried inside of him sliding almost all the way out again, he immediately lowered himself again with controlled, slow movements, taking Ianto's cock once more deeply. Setting up a steady, firm rhythm, he moved up and down in the younger man's lap again and again, the muscles in his thighs flexing enticingly with every upward and circling motion of his hips. Ianto could only lay underneath Jack, and helplessly watch in awe as the other man rode him with abandon, his hips giving the occasional instinctual twist upwards. He knew his cock rubbed over Jack's prostate with every other downward stroke the other man took when Jack's breathy moans were anything to go by. Planting his heels firmly into the mattress, Ianto thrust up suddenly, almost toppling Jack off of him if it weren't for the tight hold they had on each other's hands. Jack gasped sharply as the head of Ianto's length was rammed directly into his prostate, and when Ianto thrust up again, it was enough to let the older man tumble over the edge. He moaned breathlessly, his cock spurting hot come in a high arch across Ianto's chest. The sight alone paired with the sudden contractions gripping him was enough to send Ianto over the edge as well. Not taking his eyes from Jack's blissed-out face, he froze as his orgasm crashed over him, burying himself one last time in Jack's heat with a jerky motion of his hips. Jack held completely still as a wave of pleasure washed over him, and he groaned throatily as he felt Ianto expand slightly inside of him before the younger man came. In that moment, he wished that they had gone bareback. He wanted to feel Ianto spill hotly inside of him, he wanted to feel owned by him, but he knew that this would have meant crossing a line they both weren't prepared, weren't supposed to cross in their professional relationship. Losing himself in his fantasy for a moment, he enjoyed the last little aftershocks of his climax making his body twitch pleasantly before he let himself slump forward only to be received into Ianto's waiting arms. 

Long minutes passed as the two men tried to catch their breath again, basking in the afterglow lying tightly pressed together, Jack's come sticky between their stomachs and Ianto's softening cock still lodged deeply inside of Jack. 

Eventually, they had to move though. Carefully, Jack rolled from Ianto onto the mattress, reaching down between their bodies to grip the base of Ianto's cock and the condom tightly before he let the spend member slip from his body. He heard Ianto getting rid of the condom in the bin under the bedside table before the the younger man flopped down beside Jack sluggishly once more. 

“What's in that bag you brought?” Jack asked lazily, stretching luxuriously, feeling Ianto's sudden interested gaze on him.

“Ah, yes. Almost forgot.” Ianto forced himself to leave the bed, now being the one for a change to sense Jack's admiring gaze on his backside, and trotted back into the main area of the suite to get his present. Coming back into the bedroom, he presented Jack with a heavy, grey wool coat. It was slightly military style, with brass buttons on the front.

Jack's eyes grew wide. “W-what's that?”

“I thought that would be quite obvious,” Ianto grunted, amused.

“Well, yes, but...”

“I got it for you,” he smiled, parroting Jack's earlier words. 

Swallowing heavily around the sudden lump in his throat, Jack stared at the beautiful coat, and then at Ianto, but soon, his eyes strayed down to the coat again as if magically drawn to it.

Ianto stood before the bed, still holding out the coat to Jack's inspection. “You told me about your grandfather, and that he was with the RAF. I thought...” Suddenly self-conscious, Ianto shrugged, squirming under Jack's shell-shocked gaze, gradually becoming afraid that it had been the wrong thing to do.

Jack seemed frozen to the spot, but in reality, he forced himself to stay onto the bed. Otherwise, he would have jumped up, and right out kissed Ianto, he was so happy.

“Thank you,” he croaked instead, and tried to put all of his gratefulness into these two words. When Ianto smiled gently at him, he knew he had succeeded.

“Won't you try it on?” Ianto challenged softly, still smiling at him.

Jack groaned. “I can't!” he whined. “I'm all sticky.” But, letting his gaze flit through the room, he suddenly jumped up, and grabbed Ianto's discarded shirt, pulling it on over his skin sticky with sweat and come. He also fished Ianto's pants from under the bed, and hastily pulled them on. Readily, he straightened up, and held out his arms eagerly, as Ianto helped him into the coat. It was heavy, lying comfortably around his shoulders. And it was a perfect fit.

Moved, he tried to smirk at Ianto suggestively. “Still got the eye of a master tailor.”

“It would seem so.” Ianto watched him unguardedly, soaking up Jack's happiness. “So, you like it?”

“I love it!” Jack threw over his shoulder while he was busily admiring himself in the mirror. It should have looked a little ridiculous wearing this heavy greatcoat with only a shirt and pants underneath, but to Ianto, Jack looked perfect. 

“You look very dashing, Captain,” he murmured, and stepped up to Jack. He wanted to press himself against Jack's back so that they could look at them together in the mirror, but he was still naked, and equally as sticky as Jack. 

Jack sensed his dilemma for he softly laughed at him. “Fortunately, we've already finished.” He smirked. “I'd have been tempted to shag wearing this beauty.”

Ianto swallowed heavily, clearly indicating with waving flags that Jack wasn't the only one this idea appealed to. “Maybe another time,” he rasped, his eyes holding fast to Jack's in the mirror.

Finally, Jack turned around, becoming a little more serious again. “Really, Ianto, thank you. This means so much to me. You have no idea how much.”

“Tell me?” Ianto asked shyly.

Nodding, Jack smiled, carefully pulling off the coat. Ianto took it from him to neatly put it on a coat hanger, and stored it into the wardrobe. When he turned to Jack again, the other man had shed the other clothes again as well.

“Join me in the tub?” he asked, and Ianto nodded eagerly. 

 

“My grandfather left me his military greatcoat,” Jack began his tale, wrapping his arms around Ianto who relaxed back against the older man's chest in the hot water of the tub. “I loved it when I was a boy, always wanting to wear it. It was so heavy, I could hardly move.”

Both men chuckled at the image.

“It's all I have left from him. It's safely stored back at my flat, but sometimes, when I have some spare time, I wear it outside. Mind you, I look pretty eccentric, but hey, I'm an ageing diva, I'm allowed to be eccentric.”

“You're not old!” Ianto looked over his shoulder at him, appalled. 

“In this profession, I am,” Jack explained calmly, brushing a flannel over Ianto's chest soothingly. “Especially from a gay point of view. It's all about looks and beauty and youth in that scene.”

“You are beautiful,” Ianto muttered, put out on Jack's behalf.

The older man laughed good-naturedly. “I know. But nonetheless, I'm old.”

“You're not even forty, are you?”

“Next month,” Jack had to admit not without a little chagrin. Sighing wistfully, he brushed his hand through Ianto's hair. “And you're still so young.”

Ianto snorted at that. “Tell that to my family. My mother and my sister think that I am old enough to have a bunch of kids already. I think they really hold that against me, divorcing Lisa. No grandchildren for my mother.” Ianto shrugged. “They love her. Sometimes more than me, I think. They were so grateful when I married her that they were even prepared to overlook my nasty pastime sleeping with men as well.”

“Did she mind?”

Ianto shrugged again. “We were so in love at the beginning. It's quite disgusting if you look at it today. But then, I don't know. We drifted apart. Each of us took other lovers, I don't know who started it. And in the end, there was only weariness left.”

“Does your sister have any kids?”

“Yeah, two. Since they are the only grandchildren my mother will ever get, she spoils them rotten.”

“Are...” Jack bit his lip, navigating into a sensible topic here. “Were your parents still together when your dad died?”

Ianto shook his head. “That's been over a long time ago. He wasn't always a bastard. Always strict, yes, but he became more and more... nasty over time. It's because of him I'm afraid of heights. When I was little, he pushed the swing in our garden higher and higher until I fell, breaking my leg.”

Jack tightened his hold around Ianto in sympathy, being reminded of his own father who wasn't a model father himself.

“He started drinking,” Ianto continued. “The company became more and more successful, but he couldn't cope with the pressure. He tried to compensate for it with the drinking and turning his heart to ice. He started to hit my mother. Everybody knew of course, but all pretended not to. When he started coming for us kids, my mother, for once in her life, screwed society and what they might think of her, and left him. I hated him for what he did. They put me into therapy. Cost me a fortune just to say 'I was very angry with him'. Did do that well, didn't I? I shall say it again. Hello, my name is Ianto Jones, I'm very angry with my father.”

Jack chuckled. “I would've been angry at the fortune.”

Ianto chuckled back, caressing Jack's knee peeking from the water left and right from Ianto. “I like your level-headed thinking.”

He felt Jack's grin against his neck.

“And you still became part of his company?” Jack marvelled.

“My training was too deeply rooted inside of me, I think. Anyway. I told you already that I took over the Cardiff branch, and as soon as I was successful enough, I detached this part of the company from the rest.”

“Could you just do that?”

“His mistake was to write it over to me, maybe as kind of an apology. It was my property now, not his any more. So, from then on, we went separate ways. One day, his company went bankrupt, I bought it, picked it apart, and sold it off piece by piece.”

“What'd the shrink say?”

“Said I was cured.”

Jack snorted. “Could have have told you that cheaper.”

“Yeah,” Ianto chuckled, starting to play with Jack's fingers. “You're a really good listener.”

Becoming a little uncomfortable at the honest praise, Jack tried to steer into more lighter topics. “By the way, have I told you, my leg is 102 centimetres from hip to toe?” Jack squirmed around to wrap his legs around Ianto's midsection from behind. “So, basically, we're talking about 204 centimetres of therapy wrapped around you for the bargain price of three thousand pounds.” –  “ Three thousand pounds,” Ianto parroted with a roll of his eyes.

“That's right.” Jack smirked.

“That's not very long though,” Ianto retorted drily, bursting Jack's bubble, making the older man mock-pout. But he composed himself rather quickly with a retort. 

“Well, no, just wanted to tell you. Could have started bragging about the length of other body parts of me, but I didn't want to depress you.”

“Is that so,” Ianto smirked, suggestively pressing his ass back into Jack's crotch. 

“Well,” Jack drawled charitably, slipping his hand between Ianto's legs to start fondling him, “You're not so bad either, I have to give you that.”

“I'll show you not bad,” Ianto growled good-naturedly, suddenly squirming out of Jack's hold and around, water sloshing all around him, until he knelt before Jack between his legs. With smouldering eyes, he stared down at the other man who reclined in the tub utterly relaxed with a smug smirk spreading over his handsome features.

“You're awfully cheeky, Mr. Harkness,” Ianto noted with a playfully raised eyebrow. 

“Well, Mr. Jones, how kind of you to notice. It's part of my natural charm.”

“Hmhm. That may be, but I'd like you a little more dignified and humble. I want that smug grin off of your face, so, please turn around, would you.”

A frisson of excitement ran through Jack, but he didn't want to let his eagerness show. With an almost bored look, he slowly turned around until he came to a kneeling position before Ianto in the tub. He practically felt the other man's burning gaze devouring the sight presented to him. He shivered as Ianto's hands started sliding over his hips, one hand trailing down his spine, causing Jack to arch into the touch until the questing hands settled on the muscular globes of his ass.

For a while, Ianto indulged himself, and squeezed and kneaded the firm flesh in his hands, never taking his eyes off of what he was doing. He was dead set on fucking the smirk from Jack's face, but the longer he stared at this fantastic ass, the stronger became an irresistible urge welling up inside him, and almost consuming him with lust.

“Lean forward,” he rasped, and Jack complied by leaning over the edge of the tub, presenting his ass to Ianto while comfortably crossing his arms on the rim. 

Shoving all thoughts of fucking Jack once again from his mind, he grabbed a firm cheek in each hand, and pulled them apart. Exhaling softly with nerves – it had been quite a while since he'd done that –, he bend down, and liked firmly over Jack's hole.

Stunned, Jack gave a hoarse shout.

And Ianto grinned before he forced his tongue through the ring of muscle.

 

Nervously, Jack climbed from the car the next day, eyeing his surroundings with trepidation, all those rich people mingling about, picnicking at the edges of the polo field. The weather was, for a change, beautiful. They were not here for fun though but to meet with some politician whose support Ianto needed in his campaign against Mott.

“What if someone recognises me?” Jack asked, not really being successful in hiding this particular worry.

Ianto stepped up to him to trap him between the car and his body to stop his nervous fidgeting. “Not likely,” he assured. “They don't spend their time in Soho.”

“You did.”

Ianto smirked at the dry answer, and nodded. “Touché.” He soothingly rubbed Jack's hips, then briefly let his hands slide around to give his ass a teasing squeeze under the shelter of the jacket Jack wore before he stepped away. “Come on. Let's go. It will be fine.” He looked Jack imploringly in the eye. “You look great, you look like a gentleman. Just don't fidget, and smile.”

Nodding, still reluctantly, Jack followed Ianto over the compound.

“Do you ever wear something else than suits?” he asked to take his mind off of worrying, but also because he was really curious. Because, until now, he hadn't seen Ianto wearing anything else. Ever. He looked down onto himself, comparing his outfit consisting of light slacks, a polo-shirt and casual jacket with Ianto's way more formal attire.

Ianto threw him a smug side-glance. “That or nothing.”

Jack burst out laughing, feeling much better already.

Gradually, he started to relax. These people didn't know who he was no matter his silly apprehension. Some were a little snobbish or aloof, but they were all right to talk to for an afternoon. As soon as he spread his considerable charm, he had them hooked, making the ladies giggle and blush, and the men smirking although they tried to hide it.

And then, Ianto introduced him to his lawyer that Jack had heard about so much by know. Harold Saxon. He was here with his wife Lucy who clung to her husband like a shy schoolgirl despite looking sharp and elegant like a lady.

Saxon was very charming, and smiled amicably at Jack, but somehow, the piercing, cold gaze of the other man send shivers down Jack's spine. He was glad when Saxon went to get them something to drink. Not soon after, Ianto apparently spied the man he was here for, and briefly left Jack on his own.

But he wasn't alone for long because, surprisingly, Donna Noble marched up to him purposefully. An honest grin spread over Jack's features as he saw her.

“What are you doing here?”

“Well, one of the horses is mine,” Donna winked at him. 

“Ah, I see,” Jack laughed. “And it's not in the winning team by chance?”

Donna's eyes sparkled with mirth. “Could be. You wanna see?”

“Yeah, sure.” He offered her his arm which she took all too eager with a big grin.

 

Unfortunately, Donna couldn't stay though after she had introduced him to her beloved horse Lance, and so, Jack found himself alone again only a short while later, coming to watch the other spectators with interest.

He turned as he felt a presence beside him, and his stomach fell slightly though his smile stayed on.

“Having a nice time, Jack?” Saxon asked casually.

“Yeah,” he replied politely, “I'm having a great time.”

“Must be quite a change from Soho, hmm?”

Jack froze, the smile on his face falling. “What?”

“Yeah, 's no big deal. Ianto told me.”

What?! He couldn't believe what he was hearing.

“But don't worry, your secret is safe with me,” Saxon chuckled, much too full of malicious glee. “Listen... Maybe you and I could get together some time after Ianto leaves...”

It got worse and worse. Feeling as if his heart was torn to pieces with betrayal, Jack had to force himself not to flinch as he felt Saxon's hand discreetly caressing his hip. Why was he doing this? Not for one second did Jack believe this man was into guys. Was this some sick power game?

Fixing his smile, though empty, into place again, he looked at Saxon. “Sure. Why not.”

The blond man smirked, his hand becoming bolder. “Good.”

The voice of his wife calling him away freed Jack of Saxon's presence. He was left standing, shivering over his whole body although he was standing in the warm afternoon sun.

 

The rest of the afternoon passed as if in slow motion for Jack. It was agony for him. When they finally left though, he didn't feel any better because he had to ride back with the man who so carelessly had started all of this mess.

He slammed the door after he'd stepped into the suite, causing Ianto to look funny at him.

“You all right?”

“I'm fine,” he muttered, and stormed through the room. 

“'Fine',” Ianto mocked drily. “That's good. Seven 'fines' since we left the match. Could I have another word, please?”

“Wanker. There's a word,” Jack snapped back, vanishing into the bathroom and slamming the door. A few seconds later, he stormed out again. “Just tell me one thing,” he demanded of Ianto. “Why did you make me get all dressed up?”

Frowning in incomprehension, Ianto came over to him. “Well, for one thing, the clothing was appropriate.”

“No,” Jack hissed. “What I mean is, if you were gonna tell ev'rybody I'm a hustler, why didn't you just let me wear my own clothes?”

Ianto blanched, but went defensive immediately. “I did not...”

Jack interrupted him fiercely so as if he had never spoken. “I mean, in my own clothes, I would have felt secure and prepared when someone like that slimy guy Saxon comes up to me.”

Sighing, Ianto sank down onto the bed, looking after Jack running around the room like a caged tiger. He'd known what a mistake this was the second he had said the words to Harry. “I'm sincerely sorry. I'm not happy with Saxon at all for confronting you. But he  _is_ my attorney. I've known him for ages.” Ianto shook his head, exasperated. “He thought you were some kind of industrial spy because he saw you speaking to Donna Noble. The guy's paranoid. I had to tell him something.”

By now, he'd come after the agitated Jack who spun around to him, glaring daggers at him. “How dare you! What are you, my pimp now? You think you can just pass me around to your friends? I'm not some little toy.”

“No, you're not my toy. Jack! I'm speaking to you. Come back here.”

But Jack had run off once again, and Ianto only realised what Jack was doing when he had a bunch of his clothes wrapped up in his arms. He staunchly ignored the spike of fear that ran through him at the sight – and the implications. He took in a calming, deep breath. He had to go about here with some logic. “I hate to point out the obvious here, but you are, in fact, a hustler, and you are my employee. So then, would you be so kind as to tell me what you are doing?”

“You don't own me!” Jack shouted. “I get to decide, and right now, I'm deciding that I'm not your employee any more.”

“That's ridiculous,” Ianto scoffed. “Don't make such a big deal out of this. I'm not in the mood for fighting with you for the next three days. I said I was sorry, and that's the end of it.” To the end, Ianto's voice, despite his good intentions, had become quite loud as well, his emotions running wild all of a sudden. He'd seldomly felt so helpless as right this moment.

Breathing heavily, his lips pressed together in a stubborn line, he looked at Jack whose expression was devoid of any emotion.

“I'm sorry I ever met you,” he whispered, scrambling around for some more of his clothes. “I'm sorry I ever got in your stupid car.”

“As if you had so many more appealing options,” Ianto scoffed.

Once more, Jack glared daggers at him as he stormed from the bathroom once more. “I've never had anyone make me feel as cheap as you did today.”

“Oh please. Do you really expect me to believe that!?”

“Not my problem any more,” Jack snapped. “I told you, our deal's done with. I want my money, and then I'm outta here.”

Shell-shocked, Ianto stared at Jack who waited with his back turned to him, his body noticeably trembling though if with rage or distress, Ianto couldn't tell. He only knew that what he was feeling himself was utter despair as it hit home that Jack really wanted to go.

No! He couldn't! He wasn't prepared to let him go yet!

But on the other hand, he realised, if he now forced him to stay, he really would be the one man to treat him as cheaply as no-one had ever done before.

Swallowing around the lump in his throat, he nodded and mutely got out his wallet. He put the money on the edge of the mattress, then, because he couldn't stand to look at Jack or to watch him go, he fled to the other end of the suite. He busied himself with some papers, but he didn't see even one word that was written there.

He flinched violently when the door banged shut behind Jack.

He let out a shaky breath, trying not to let Jack leaving get to him too much. A hesitant look over his shoulder told him, to his utter surprise, that the money still lay on the mattress. He looked at the closed door thoughtfully.

Then, he started moving.

 

He passed Jack up waiting before the elevator. The older man ignored him steadfastly, and Ianto swallowed desperately.

“I'm sorry,” he whispered dejectedly, but Jack didn't react. Sighing, he realised that he had to do better than that. “I wasn't prepared to answer questions about us, hadn't thought it through beforehand.” He lowered his eyes. “It was stupid and cruel. I didn't mean it.” Raising his gaze once more, he looked intently at Jack who still stared straight ahead. “I don't want you to go. Could you stay the week?”

“Why?” Jack asked through clenched teeth, his voice sounding hoarse with emotion. 

Ianto looked away again, embarrassed. “I saw you talking to Donna Noble. I didn't like it.”

Scoffing desperately, Jack shook his head. “We just talked. She's not even my type.”

Ianto chuckled self-deprecatingly. “I didn't like it.”

Jack thought about his words for some time, so long that Ianto started to squirm nervously, but he forced himself to stay still, and await Jack's sentence.

“You hurt me,” the other man finally stated.

“Yes,” he admitted readily. 

For the first time since they were standing here in the corridor, Jack looked him in the eye. “Don't do it again.”

Ianto nodded, but Jack didn't see the gesture because he slowly went back into the suite. A weight lifted from Ianto's heart. “I won't,” he breathed, the words for himself, not for Jack.

 

For a little while, the mood between them was still slightly awkward, but they grew comfortable around each other more and more again. At the latest when, in a show of good-will, Jack ordered takeaway again so that Ianto could have his real takeaway-experience, cardboard boxes and all, they were fine again.

They didn't have sex that night. Suspended in a somehow detached mood, they simply curled up together in bed, facing each other, but not quite touching, and started to talk.

“How did you end up here?” Ianto finally dared to ask the one question he had not dared to before.

Jack shrugged, suddenly not minding the question he had secretly dreaded any more. “I told you about my grandfather.”

Ianto nodded.

“Well, he... he died as you may have guessed already. It's been ages now. I was seventeen or something like that. He was Scottish, you know, and his dearest wish was to have his ashes scattered in the Highlands.” Jack evaded Ianto's gaze, and shrugged awkwardly once more. “So, I took what little money I had as well as the small sum he had left me, and bought a plane ticket to Edinburgh. From there, I hitch-hiked, smuggled his ashes all the way to Scotland. No idea how I managed.” They both gave soft, amused laughs.

“That was very kind of you,” Ianto eventually said appreciatively. 

“He was all I really had.” Another shrug, and Ianto could see Jack getting flustered in the relative darkness.

“And then?” he coaxed gently. 

“I went to London after. I had this grand dream of becoming a famous musical star, and since I didn't have the money for a ticket home, I stayed. This was London after all, the West End.” Jack fell silent for a few long minutes, and finally turned onto his back with a soft sniffling. At first, Ianto didn't dare, but then he shuffled closer to the other man, and pressed himself against him, his head pillowed on Jack's smooth chest. Maybe it would be easier for him if he didn't have to look Ianto in the eye while talking.

“I managed to get by somehow,” he eventually continued haltingly. “Took a few singing and acting lessons, but eventually, the money I made with the odd job wasn't enough any more. I had to drop out from lessons. But there was nothing else I could do. I don't even have a graduation. I... I wanted to go back to school after my grandpa died. It was the summer break when I flew to Scotland, but I underestimated it all somehow, so, I never finished school since I never went back.” 

“Did you want to go back then?”

“No,” Jack answered firmly. “I was nineteen at the time. I couldn't face my parents like that, so I stayed for good. A-and... I don't know,” he whispered, and Ianto could practically hear the tears gathering in his eyes in Jack's tone of voice. “It just happened... One time, I was so broke... And I met this guy. He found me pretty, and offered... I just did it.” 

Gently, Ianto caressed his stomach, but didn't look up to meet his eyes. “And you've done this for all these years now?”

“Yeah.” Jack laughed self-deprecatingly. “I was making more money like that than washing dishes, and until today, I've never caught any nasty STIs or have been hurt seriously by a trick. Been incredibly lucky... I-it wasn't so bad when they were good looking, you know. Or kind. I was only reminded of what I am when they were old and ugly, only looking for something young to fuck. Some were cruel. Well... That's something I don't have to concern myself with any more. Today, I'm nothing more than an ageing whore feeling sorry for himself.” 

Jack reached up to brush a tear away, and laughing his problems away just as easily with a smile that never reached his eyes. “Sorry. 'S not your concerns.”

“I asked, didn't I.”

“Yeah, you did,” Jack marvelled, and Ianto got the feeling that nobody had ever asked before. 

“You could be so much more,” he whispered, and he felt Jack's self-deprecating chuckle rumble through his chest under Ianto's ear. 

“Not any more, Ianto.”

“To me, you are the most extraordinary person I have ever met,” Ianto said, his voice sounding so convinced of it that Jack had to swallow. 

“The bad stuff is easier to believe. You ever noticed that?”

Ianto tightened his hold around Jack's upper body. “Yeah. I know.”

 

To Jack's surprised delight, Ianto came home very early today, telling him he should glam himself up, they were going out, and no amount of needling could bring Ianto to tell Jack what he had planned.

So, with a put-upon sigh, Jack started to get ready, inside though, he was giddy with anticipation.

Somehow jumpy about Ianto's reaction, Jack finally left the bedroom to face the younger man. His breath caught as he spied Ianto, wearing a black tux with his trademark waistcoat and a black bow-tie. A polished pocket watch was put back to its proper place after Ianto had just risked a look, and probably wondered what was taking Jack so long. He looked fantastic. Though Jack was wearing nearly the same outfit, it was so much more... thrilling to see Ianto dressed up like that (not, that he himself didn't look fantastic, too, that was).

Ianto looked up, smirking so as if really refraining from a “what took you so long?”, and instead started to circle Jack to scrutinise him.

“Do I look okay?” Jack asked teasingly, for once without his usual hidden worry behind his bravado.

“Mhmhm,” Ianto returned with an equally as teasing noise. “But something's missing.”

Jack raised an eyebrow. “I can take things  _off_ from this tux, but no way add something to it.”

Ianto raised a finger, and pulled a small velvet box from his pocket. “A last but mandatory detail with a tux.”

Jack gasped as Ianto opened the box, and a pair of beautiful cufflinks were revealed. Looking more closely, Jack realised that they were in the form of little jet planes that would fit perfectly to his greatcoat. He felt his eyes tearing up, and he withstood the urge to angrily brush them away. “They're beautiful,” he whispered around the sudden lump in his throat.

Ianto just smiled and took the cufflinks out of the box, putting them on for Jack. Holding Jack's wrist after he had finished with the second cufflink, he looked at Jack. For a moment, they both were suspended in time, lost in each other's eyes. “Shall we?” Ianto eventually asked softly, and Jack nodded.

 

Just like on his successful shopping trip, Jack felt all eyes on him down in the lobby, on them both. He could only imagine what a dashing couple they made, all dressed up in their tuxedos. Briefly, he met Smith's eyes by chance, and the manager smiled brightly at him, happy on his regard. Jack smiled back, then at Ianto, completely happy himself.

The hotel's car awaited them outside, and swiftly brought them into evening London. Jack raised an anticipating eyebrow as he realised where their destination lay. “The Royal Opera House?”

Ianto nodded haltingly. “I thought...” He bit his lip to stop himself.

“What?” Smiling, Jack looked at him.

Ianto shrugged uneasily, an unexpected blush stealing on to his face. “Initially, I wanted to visit a musical with you, but after what you've told me...” Once more, he shrugged helplessly. “I thought that maybe it would awaken bad memories...”

Jack looked up again at the impressive building looking like a Greece temple, and chuckled. He cocked a mocking eyebrow at Ianto. “But taking me to see a performance with a prostitute as a heroine that dies at the end would be better or what?” He indicated the posters in front of the Opera House proclaiming this season's performance of La Traviata.

Ianto's eyes widened comically, breathing a shocked “fuck” under his breath that had Jack laugh hilariously. Brushing tears of laughter from his eyes, the older man put his hand on Ianto's knee in a placative gesture. “It's all right. I don't mind. Saw it on TV once. I liked it.” His gaze softened. “Thank you, Ianto. That was very considerate of you. Very sweet.”

A heavy blush spreading once again over Ianto's face, he managed a small, happy smile. “You're welcome. Shall we?”

“Yes. Can't wait.”

 

Together, they entered the Royal Opera House where they were led straight to a box with a fantastic view. Jack should have known that Ianto would have a box at one of the big houses, but...

“If you're afraid of heights, why do you get seats up here?”

Ianto sniffed haughtily. “Because they're the best.”

“Of course,” Jack chuckled, and they settled in to wait for the performance to begin. “I've never seen the real thing,” he sighed eventually, dreamily looking around, taking all these exciting, wonderful impressions in like a thirsty man in a desert who'd finally found water. “Always wanted to come to one of the big houses... preferably standing on stage myself, being the star, but this is fantastic, too.”

Ianto watched him closely, but though Jack sounded slightly lost in memories, he didn't sound overly depressed about his musical career that had never come to pass. Impulsively, he took Jack's hand and squeezed it. Jack didn't look at him, but he smiled. And then, the lights went out.

 

Moving as if on clouds, Jack led himself be steered back into the car that brought them back to the hotel. He couldn't stop smiling, the evening had been too perfect. Experiencing such a performance live or watching it on TV... it was worlds apart, really.

Since he was much too giddy to go to bed, Ianto persuaded him to play with him. To Ianto's surprise, Jack agreed to the game of chess he suggested, and found an apt adversary in the older man. They were so absorbed in their game that, when they eventually looked at the clock, they noted with some shock that it was almost one in the night.

“Let's continue tomorrow, okay?” Ianto requested. “I've still got some work to do.”

“And if you take the day off tomorrow?” Jack asked boldly. 

“Me not work?!” Ianto raised an incredulous eyebrow.

“Yeah. Would do you some good.”

Contemplatively, Ianto pursed his lips. “Well... It's my company.”

“You're the boss, that's right.” Jack grinned brightly at him. “Deal?”

A bright smirk spread over Ianto's face as well. “Deal.”

 

As if Jack had booked it right for this day, the weather the next day was sunny and warm. It was beautifully suited for a stroll through Hyde Park that they embarked on after a late breakfast. They didn't do anything, just walk around, watching people, and being overly aware of the other's presence in the relaxed atmosphere.

Eventually, the two men got hungry. They picked up some snacks from one of the food vendors littered all throughout the park, and found themselves a nice spot under a tree (Ianto, everything if not efficient, had even thought of packing a blanket beforehand, Jack noticed with a fond smirk). They stayed there for most of the afternoon, eating sticky pastries, drinking coffee (which, of course, wasn't as good as Ianto's, but obviously, even Ianto hadn't remembered to bring some Thermos with his own coffee which would have been cold by now anyway), and just relaxing on the blanket together – only after that one time where Jack had to brutally terminate a call Ianto had foolishly taken, but who wisely hadn't protested further at a pointed look from Jack after which he had switched off his mobile. At some point, Ianto pulled forth a book that he'd obviously packed together with the blanket, and, chuckling about the other man, Jack lay down, his head pillowed on Ianto's shoulder, and listened to him read Roald Dahl of all people – “I'm Welsh, Jack,” had been the answer to Jack's cocked eyebrow which probably should have meant as much as “It's a sacred, patriotic duty”. He loved Ianto's voice. It was so unexpectedly deep. You wouldn't assume when you looked at his still youthful, boyish face and fine features.

Evening came as a surprise to them, time had flown by over the course of the day, and so, getting up on limps stiff from lying around all day, they left Hyde Park, but made a detour to a little hole in the wall Indian place, Jack's third, and this time real attempt to show Ianto what it meant to eat takeaway appropriately (or at all).

Tired from doing nothing all day, especially Ianto, the man who could work through the night without any problems normally. So, therefore, it wasn't that surprising when Jack came out of the bathroom to find the younger man fast asleep, propped up against the pillows, the Roald Dahl forgotten in his hand. Without really noticing, a smile crept on to Jack's face, suddenly overcome with an almost aching rush of tenderness for Ianto. With careful steps, he crossed the distance to the bed, and sat on the corner of the mattress, simply watching Ianto sleep. As if in a trance, he reached out, and delicately touched Ianto's lips with the tips of his fingers. The younger man steered a little, but didn't wake. Becoming more bold, Jack leaned forward, and gently kissed Ianto on the cheek. And from there... from there, it was only a short way to Ianto's mouth. At this moment, he thought he surely would die if he didn't kiss Ianto. His heart pounding like mad, he oh so softly brushed his lips against Ianto's, not sure if he wanted him to wake up or not. Ianto jerked awake at the touch though, and for a second, they looked each other deeply in the eye, their mouths so close they breathed the same air.

It was Ianto who bridged the distance between them again after a long moment suspended in time.

The kiss started out haltingly, almost shy, while the two men slowly explored each other, thrilled with the novelty, and moved by the powerful feeling that was running through them both. Gr adually, the kiss became more heated. Ianto sat up, and cupped Jack's face between his hands, the other man doing likewise. Jack was sure that he had never been snogged so long and thorough in his whole live, and for a while, kissing Ianto was all that mattered. But eventually, another urge made itself known. The throbbing heat between his legs almost overpowering his senses. Pushing Ianto back down onto the mattress, he covered the younger man's body with his own without ever breaking their heated kiss. Both men moaned softly as their erections pressed against each other, and Jack gently undulated his hips, pressing more firmly into Ianto. He felt Ianto's questing hands gliding over his back and down to his ass, his strong fingers kneading the muscular cheeks he encountered. Groaning at the sensations, Jack pulled back from Ianto's lips to sit up, but Ianto's hands suddenly wrapping around his neck made him stop. The younger man looked up at him with an expression in his blue eyes that Jack couldn't quite name. Questioningly, he returned the almost pleading gaze. 

“Take me, please,” Ianto whispered, his voice rough with emotion. Jack froze, and stared at the younger man shell-shocked. He had to swallow heavily around the lump in his throat. He'd never thought... Ianto wanted...?

“You sure?” he asked carefully, appearing quite calm on the outside, but inside, there was a turmoil raging through him. But as Ianto nodded, a very determined glint flashing in his eyes, Jack suddenly calmed down again. A strange peace settled over him, and he even found the strength to smile softly at Ianto. 

“How long's it been?” he asked, scrutinising Ianto carefully for any false bravado the younger man might exhibit in some stupid attempt at embarrassed bravery. 

But Ianto answered honestly, shrugging once. “Quite a while,” he admitted. “I was never prepared to give up my dominance.”

Jack raised an eyebrow, marvelling. “And now you are?”

Ianto smiled at him a little strained, clearly not wanting to deepen the topic. Jack nodded, not wanting to destroy the mood either. So, he simply leaned down to kiss Ianto again before he sat up determinedly, and pushed a pillow under Ianto's hips. Ianto eagerly spread his thighs for Jack, and the other man had to pause for a moment as he let sink in the significance of what they would be doing in a moment. They would finally cross that line between professional and emotional, and for Jack, there was no turning back after. Enjoying the sight of Ianto spread out under him, waiting eagerly and a little anxiously, for just a moment longer, Jack eventually forced his numb hands into motion. Reaching over for the tube of lube and squeezing a heavy dollop of cool gel onto his fingers, he reached down to slide them between Ianto's cheeks. The younger man hissed as the cold fluid touched him, but, as Jack had promised to show him, it wasn't uncomfortable. Well, not only uncomfortable. There was indeed a certain allure to the coolness on his heated skin. Excitedly, he pushed his hips down to try to impale himself on Jack's slick fingers that, for now, were simply caressing his perineum, gently pushing against his prostate from the outside. From time to time, he playfully dipped the tip of one finger into Ianto's hole, only to withdraw again quickly every time. He smirked as Ianto started to writhe and mewl under his teasing touches. “Jaaack!” he whined, trying to glare up at the older man who wouldn't let himself be deterred though. On the contrary, he wanted to tease Ianto a little more in the hopes of hearing more of his breathless begging. The deeper the young man lost himself in his arousal, the stronger he slipped into his Welsh brogue. Even a few Welsh (swear) words found their way into his mindless pleading, and Jack still wanted to hear more. It send a shudder through his whole body. Eventually, his own body throbbing almost painfully with arousal itself, he had mercy on Ianto, and swiftly but gently breached the younger man with one finger. Ianto sucked in a sharp breath, and Jack watched his reactions carefully. “Okay?” he asked, and Ianto nodded jerkily, his breath coming even heavier. 

“Go on,” he asked Jack, spreading his thighs even wider to give Jack more room. 

Nodding absent-mindedly, Jack pulled out only to return with two slick fingers. Ianto tried to hide the uncomfortable grunt that escaped him, but otherwise, he encouraged Jack anew with urgent whispered pleas. The discomfort rapidly faded into the background as Jack's deft fingers brushed over his prostate. He let out a startled yelp before a drawn-out moan was ripped from his throat. “Oh fuck,” he rasped breathlessly. “I'd forgotten how good this could feel.”

Jack winked at him. “Then I shall remind you some more, right?”

Slowly, Jack started to slide his fingers in and out of the clenching channel, gradually and carefully stretching his lover, preparing him for his cock. The younger man responded beautifully to his ministrations. So much so that Jack had to close his eyes now and again to find his equilibrium again when Ianto clenched around him, practically sucking his fingers deep into his body while mewling softly and trashing around on the mattress, and Jack couldn't help himself but imagine vividly how the vice-like sensation would feel around his cock. 

Soon, Jack could add a third finger. 

“Maybe you should turn onto your side, 's easier for you that way,” he suggested eventually when he deemed his lover ready, but Ianto shook his head vigorously. 

“No,” he panted, instinctively clenching around the three fingers inside of him again. “Wanna see you.”

The happy smile Jack threw him was brilliant in its intensity. Carefully, the older man pulled out his fingers, and swiftly rolled on the condom, slathering his erection generously with lube. He shuffled forward into position as Ianto wrapped his spread legs around Jack's waist. Gripping the younger man's supple cheeks in a tight grip, he heaved him onto his lap. Reaching between his legs with one hand, he guided his straining cock against the loosened hole, the head bumping against the clenching muscles. Taking a deep breath, he pushed forward.

Jack moaned throatily as he sank into Ianto's tight heat, closing his eyes in abandon. It had been so long since he had been the one doing the taking. He'd forgotten how incredible it felt. Shivering, he held himself still for a moment, enjoying the tightness gripping him, and at the same time giving Ianto time to adjust. After all, it had been a long time for him as well. 

“Jack...”

He opened his eyes to look down onto Ianto. Their feverish gazes held firmly to each other.

“Move, please...”

Nodding shakingly, Jack retreated, then thrust into his lover slowly but firmly. He moaned, and Ianto gasped in shock as Jack's thick cock was pushed into him to the hilt. He had forgotten this strange mixture of pleasure and discomfort when being on the bottom, but he pushed the slight pain aside roughly, instead fully concentrating on the pleasure. He tried to even out his breathing and relax completely. At once, the painful pressure of being stretched and filled eased considerably, so that he could concentrate on the pleasurable things Jack was doing to him. He met the older man's next thrust eagerly, raising his hips as Jack pushed in. They set a steady rhythm like that, giving and taking in equal parts. Both of their movements only faltered when Jack changed his angle, and hit his prostate for the first time, causing Ianto to tremble over his whole body, the rise of his hips abandoned in a stuttering jerk. Mercilessly, Jack set about to batter his prostate with every thrust from then on, reducing the younger man to a sobbing, writhing mess. 

Feeling the sudden need to be even closer to Ianto, Jack leaned down, plastering his own sweat-slicked body to Ianto's so that he could kiss him. Ianto responded eagerly to the messy kiss, and wrapped his legs higher around Jack's waist. He couldn't thrust as deeply as before, but that didn't matter. The notion of being that much closer to Ianto, being one with him as much as he could, was even better than all the sexual gratification in the world. 

Jack felt his climax creeping up on him, felt it in the tightening of his loins, and when he looked down onto Ianto, watching his trashing form, a heavy, enticing blush having spread over his face and down to his chest while Ianto's cries sounded like the finest music in his ears, he knew that it would only be a matter of seconds. The wave of ecstasy crashed down upon him suddenly, carrying him away, and he froze. In the next second, Jack moaned breathlessly, his body shuddering as he spent himself inside the condom, heartily wishing he could have come inside of Ianto, marking him as his. With a shaky hand, he slipped it between their stomachs to grip Ianto's dripping cock. Only a few pulls were enough to bring the other man off as well, and hot come splashed between them as Ianto cried out brokenly. Jack collapsed onto his lover, bracing his hands left and right from him so as not to crush him. Immediately, Ianto's came up to wrap around Jack's shoulders while his legs tightened their hold on Jack's waist even more, wanting to hold the softening cock deeply lodged inside of himself for a while longer. 

All the other times they'd had sex, it had been Ianto taking care of him afterwards. Now it was him wanting to do the caring. Carefully withdrawing his soft cock, Jack rose and stumbled into the bathroom to get cleaned up, and bring a warm, wet flannel back to clean up his lover as well. 

Ianto groaned appreciatively as Jack gently wiped the stickiness from his stomach as well as his buttocks, and he smiled up at the older man lovingly. 

Kissing his lover's cheek, he threw the flannel in the approximate direction of the bathroom, then he climbed back into the bed again where Ianto eagerly awaited him. Spooning behind the younger man, Jack wrapped his arms around his lover, and let himself be drawn into sleep. He heard Ianto's breathing even out eventually, and all the while Jack was watching over him silently, enjoying the feeling of holding Ianto into his arms.

“I love you,” Jack whispered suddenly, so softly that he almost didn't hear the words himself, but then, they weren't supposed to be heard after all. Smiling, he closed his eyes, and was asleep within a few seconds.

Ianto opened heavy eyes, looking unseeing into the darkness with a far-away, contemplative look on his face. 

 

Ianto flinched as Jack snapped his fingers before his face, almost choking on his breakfast – and since when did he eat breakfast, he marvelled. Was Harry right and he'd changed so much in only a few days? And all because of Jack? Well, maybe, but he didn't mind. He quite liked this new person he'd become. He looked up directly into Jack's smiling face. 

“What you thinking about?”

Clearing his throat, he put down his scone. “The fact that this will be our last night together. Then you'll finally be rid of me.”

His joke fell flat as he saw Jack's face fall slightly, but he tried to stay composed. Inwardly, he grimaced. Why had he said that despite what he had heard last night from Jack? It seemed painfully cruel to make fun of the time they had been allowed to spend together, getting to know each other so well. Probably because deep down, he knew that it would break his heart to let Jack go, and so, he wanted to steel his heart just in case. But nonetheless, Jack wouldn't leave him if he could help it. Ianto had, of course, a back-up plan. 

“I'm going back to Cardiff,” he started to explain. “And... I'd really like to see you again.”

He knew he was on the right track when he saw the bright smile on Jack's face. “Really?”

“Yes. I'd love to.” Eagerly, he shoved away his breakfast, all thoughts of eating completely forgotten. “I've arranged for you to have a flat, have a car, as well as a wide variety of stores guaranteed to suck up to you any time you wanna go shopping. All thought of.”

“What else?” 

Ianto blinked. Jack didn't look all that happy all of a sudden, rather... exasperated and put out. 

“You leave some money by the bed when you spend the night?”

Sighing, appalled, Ianto suddenly understood. “Jack, it really wouldn't be like that,” he assured.

“Oh really?” Jack snapped cynically. “How would it be?”

“Well, for one thing, it would get you off the streets.”

“Maybe off the streets,” he answered dejectedly, “but apart from that, there wouldn't change anything.”

“Jack...” Ianto gasped, shocked.

“I thought we had been equals last night,” Jack murmured sadly, and jumped up from his chair to flee onto the balcony. He was in desperate need of some air right now.

“We were. We are,” he heard Ianto call after him. 

“Doesn't sound like it to me.”

Shivering with pent up emotion, he pressed close to the balustrade and looked down over Hyde Park. He heard Ianto come after him.

“Jack... What  _ is _ it you want?”

He grimaced at the clueless sound of Ianto's voice.

“What do you see happening between us?”

“I don't know.” he mumbled.

They both knew it wasn't true.

“When I was a little boy,” Jack began, a far away look in his eyes, “my mum used to lock me in the attic when I was bad, which was pretty often. And I would... I would pretend I was a prince trapped in a tower by a wicked sorcerer. And then suddenly, this knight on a white horse with flying colours would come charging up, drawing his sword.” He was so lost in this old fantasy that he waved his arm around, an imaginary sword clasped in his hand. “And I would wave, and he would climb up the tower and rescue me.” Jack turned back around to Ianto, a disappointed, hard look on his face that made Ianto want to recoil in shame. “But never, in all that time did the knight say to me 'Come on, baby, I have a great flat and a car for you'.”

Staring accusingly at Ianto, he waited for an answer. The other man clearly struggled with himself, but before he could answer, the phone rang, and, taking the coward's way out, Ianto went back inside to take the call. 

Jack waited where Ianto had left him standing, not wanting to think about with whom Ianto surely was speaking on the phone.

The call was brief, and as soon as Ianto had ended it, he came back outside, putting on his suit jacket. “I've got to go now.” He looked Jack in the eye. “I want you to understand... I heard everything you said... but this is all I'm capable of right now. It's a very big step for me.”

Jack nodded, more dejected than angry any more, and he reached up automatically to adjust Ianto's tie. “I know. It's really a good offer for someone like me.”

“I never treated you like a prostitute,” Ianto softly defended himself, and with that, he left stiffly, his spine straightened in an overly formerly, proud manner to hide his own hurt.

“You just did,” Jack replied faintly, but Ianto was already gone.

 

A short while later, Smith called on the hotel's phone, informing him that Jack had a guest. It could only be Rose, and, although he was glad to see her, he wasn't really in the mood. Nonetheless, he went down to meet her on the hotel's terrace. Seeing Rose brought home with a bang how much he himself had changed in only a few days. Just a few days back, he had been the same. Lewd (okay, he still was, it was part of his personality, but he had learned to better apply it), blunt, loud, and so obviously a whore with that clothes... It wasn't his life any more, he realised suddenly, he didn't want to go back to it. He didn't know what he should do instead, but Ianto's money surely would open up some new opportunities.

At the moment though, he was unhappy with everything this new world he had become a part of was, so the hug he drew Rose into was especially fierce. 

“I've been waiting for you,” Jack whispered into her hair, burying his face in her blond mane. He drew back to look at her enquiringly, frowning with worry. “You were supposed to come by Tuesday. I left the money at the desk.”

“Yeah, sorry, had to hide from the Doctor for a bit.”

“Well, if you picked up the money, you wouldn't have to hide.”

“Hey, I was busy. I had a life, you know. Mickey got beat up, we had to visit him in the hospital. Jake got arrested. It was a mess! Anyway, I got the money now. Thank you for saving my ass.”

Once more, Jack looked closely at her. “He didn't hurt you, right? I'll kill him if he did.”

Rose waved her hand. “No, no. He's rather harmless.”

Jack snorted since his opinion there differed slightly, but he didn't say anything. Sighing, he let his head fall into his neck, and stared up at the cloudy sky. He felt Rose's eyes on him.

“You know, he was talking about you last night. He would strain something if he saw you in this outfit.”

“I bet,” he said snidely, thinking back on the Doctor's rather peculiar clothing style. 

“I myself was afraid to hug you. I might wrinkle you!” Rose cried exasperated, but nonetheless, Jack clearly saw her admiring his new appearance. Self-conscious with happy pride, he straightened the thighs of his slacks. He chuckled.

“You look really good,” Rose said softly.

“Thanks.” Jack beamed at her. 

“Sure don't fit in Soho looking like you do. Not that you ever did. You're not hard enough for this job.” 

Jack nodded, and made an non-committal noise.

Rose raised an eyebrow, stunned. Had he changed so much in only a few short days that he even passed up this model opportunity for innuendo?! Or maybe, she marvelled as she watched him closely, he'd finally found out where he belonged. At least, he didn't belong on the street, that was for sure. He never had.

Jack shrugged. “It's easy to clean up when you got the money.”

“Yeah... So, when does he leave?”

Jack evaded her scrutinising gaze. “Tomorrow.”

“You get to keep the clothes?”

“Yeah... Ianto asked me if I wanted to see him again.” He shrugged aloofly. “But I think, I think definitely no. I mean, it's just another week, right? He's just another guy.”

“Definitely no,” Rose drawled.

“Yeah.”

Gob-smacked, Rose stared at him. “Oh no!”

“What?”

“I know this weepy look on your face.”

“You surely don't!”

“You fell in love with him, didn't you?” Rose's voice was soft and compassionate, and Jack hated her for it in that moment.

“No, Rose, please,” he tried to deny the bitter truth, but of course, she wouldn't let herself be deterred. 

“You have, haven't you?” she pressed relentlessly.

“Rose!”

“Did you kiss him on the mouth?”

“Ehm, yeah, I did.” He started to become defensive.

“You kissed him on the mouth?!”

“I did,” he bristled. “It was nice.”

Rose groaned. “You fall in love with him, and you kiss him on the mouth? Did I not teach you anything?”

“Look,” Jack snapped. “I'm not stupid, okay? I'm... I'm not in love with him... I just... I like him.”

“You like him?” Rose deadpanned.

“Yeah,” he whispered, not looking at her.

Groaning, Rose smiled painfully. “You really like him. And he's not a bum. He's a rich, classy eye-candy.”

“You haven't even seen him,” Jack protested, but Rose waved her hand dismissively.

“Still rich and classy.”

“Who's gonna break my heart.”

“Oh, no. Come on. You don't know that. Hey, he asked you, right? Maybe you guys could, like, um, you know, get a house together. And like, buy some diamonds and a horse.”

Jack burst out laughing. “A horse?!”

“Yeah, I don't know. That's what rich people do. Anyway, it could work. It happens.”

“When does it happen, Rose?” Jack asked, becoming sober again. “When does it really happen? Who does it really work out for? Did it work out for Trisha or Jake? No.”

“Those were very specific cases of crackheads,” Rose protested.

“Then who?” Jack demanded. “You give me one example of somebody that we know that it happened for.”

“Name someone? You want a name?”

“Yeah, one person that it worked out for.”

“You want a name, all right, I give you a name, let me think.” Rose pursed her lips into a pout, and massaged her temples in concentration. “A name,” she mumbled.

“Just one.”

“Ah!” she cried wryly. “Cinder-fuckin'-rella.”

They both burst out laughing.

 

Rose left not long after that, and Jack promised that he would be back home in a little while, too. That left him with packing his clothes and stuff, and wait for Ianto to come back. Jack hoped he wouldn't be too long. Apparently, he had his big meeting with Mott right about now; wincing, Jack hoped that it would end well. He liked Mott and Donna, and didn't want to see them hurt.

Right in the middle of his packing, the doorbell rang. 

With an exasperated huff, Jack hurried over to open the door...

And came face to face with Harold Saxon. 

“Well, well,” Saxon smirked. “Hello again. I'm looking for Ianto.”

“He's not here. I thought he was with you.”

Shaking his head in false disappointment, Saxon came in without being invited. “No. Uh, Ianto is definitely not with me.”

Rolling his eyes, Jack closed the door. The nerve of that man!

The blond man strolled through the room casually, putting his briefcase down as if he was at home here. “No,” he said again, crossing over to the bar to get himself a drink. “If Ianto were with me... no, when, definitely.  _ When _ Ianto was with me, he didn't blow off billion-pound deals.” He knocked back the first drink. “I rather think Ianto's with you in that, that's what I think.”

Confused and irritated, Jack blinked at the other man. “I don't understand.” 

“Of course you don't,” Saxon mocked, refilling his glass, and perching on one of the comfortable bar stools while Jack preferred to bring the couch between them, sitting down uncomfortably. “Do you know what he asked me a couple of days ago? Why we didn't built anything in this firm. Well? Sound familiar?”

Saxon sneered, but Jack's heart skipped a beat. Ianto hadn't...

“And apparently, he now wants to  _ built something _ . Together with Mott, can you imagine.”

A small, proud smirk quirked up Jack's lips. Obviously, he'd made Ianto reconsider a few things. 

“I'll just wait here for him, if that's all right.”

Saxon's voice brought him back in the here and now. 

“Sure,” Jack smiled falsely, and hastily continued, “Ianto will be back soon. Any minute, he'll be home.”

A nasty chuckle sounded over from Saxon, and Jack heard him get up to come over to join him on the couch. “You know, this is not home. This is, uh, a hotel room. And, uh, you are not... the little woman. You're a hooker.” Saxon put down his glass on the coffee table, and looked at Jack with a dangerous gleam in his eyes. 

Jack couldn't help himself, he squirmed away uncomfortably. Even though Jack probably was stronger physically, this man had something about him that terrified him, and paralysed him with fear. He couldn't even describe what it was. 

And there was that nasty chuckle again. “Maybe you're a very good hustler, you know? Normally, it's not really my thing, but, I mean, maybe if I do you, then I wouldn't care about losing millions of pounds because I have to be very honest with you right now, Jack. Right now, I really do care. I really do.” 

Saxon shuffled closer to him, his body already brushed Jack's, but for the older man, there wasn't anywhere he could go any more because he had reached the end of the couch in his not so subtle attempts to get away from Saxon. 

But Saxon didn't care about his discomfort, he simply continued, “And right now, I am really pissed, you know? Right now, I'm just freaking out.” He reached over, and brushed his fingers over Jack's knee in a farce of gentleness. “So maybe if I screw you, huh,” he said bluntly, and suddenly grabbed the inside of Jack's thigh, “and take you to the opera, then I could be a happy guy just like Ianto.”

Jack brushed his hand away, but the other man was persistent. He brought it back, squeezing Jack's thigh painfully. 

“Get off me!” he snapped, but Saxon wouldn't listen.

They began to struggle, Jack drew back to hit him, but he hadn't enough space to swing a right hook at him, so instead, he bit Saxon in the hand as he once more made a grab for him. Crying out in outraged pain, Saxon sprang up, and before Jack could react, had hit him hard in the face. 

Crying out with pain and shock himself, Jack stumbled to the floor between the couch and the coffee table, and before the stars suddenly blurring his visions had cleared away, Saxon was upon him, pressing him to the floor with his whole body weight. He was surprisingly strong.

“Come on then” Saxon sneered breathlessly. “If you want it like that, whore!”

“Get off me!” Jack screamed again, never having felt so helpless before. He struggled and bucked under Saxon, but he was stuck in the narrow space on the floor between the couch and the coffee table, not getting any leverage to get free despite his fierce struggles. He screamed and swore at the other man, and mostly didn't hear Saxon's demeaning jabs and taunts.

And suddenly, it was over. Saxon's weight vanished from him. Stunned, he blinked up. There was Ianto, pulling Saxon up and off him. 

“Get off him!” the normally so composed young man spat, wrestling his friend away. “What the fuck do you think you're doing?!” he demanded, glaring daggers at Saxon.

Saxon opened his mouth, but Ianto didn't leave him any time to justify himself. He grabbed him again, and forcefully dragged him towards the door that he had left open as he had entered the room only to come upon this horrid scene. “Get outta here!”

“All right, all right!” Saxon whined.

Ianto dropped him to the floor, having made his point clear, but Saxon jumped up again, furious with hurt pride. 

“Look, Ianto, he's a whore, man. He's a goddam... Ah!” Once again, Saxon cried out in pain – and surprise – as Ianto punched him squarely in the nose. 

They both swore colourfully, Ianto shaking his aching hand while with the other, he picked up Saxon's discarded briefcase.

“You broke my nose!” the blond man cried, muffled, holding his bleeding nose. 

“Get outta here,” Ianto told him once more, flinging the briefcase out the door into the corridor.

“What's wrong with you?” Saxon pleaded. “Come on, Ianto! I gave you all those years! I devoted my whole life to you”

Ianto held up a hand to shut him up. “That's bullshit. It's such bullshit. It's the kill you love, not me! And I made you a very rich man doing exactly what you loved! Now, for the last time, get out of here!”

Saxon's shoulders slumped, trying to appease as he realised his job was on the brink here. “Ianto, come on...”

“Get out!”

Saxon flinched at Ianto's shout, and Jack, despite flinching himself, couldn't help the satisfaction and pride that welled up inside him as he watched Ianto. 

Both men breathing heavily, they stared at one another for a few seconds, then Saxon left, Ianto slamming the door behind him.

He stood there motionlessly for a little while, and Jack let him get his bearings, not making a noise even if his face hurt, and he'd have liked to put ice onto it. 

After only a few moments, Ianto snapped out of it, his gaze flying over to Jack who watched him motionlessly from the couch. The younger man hurried over to him. 

“You all right?” he asked frantically, all rage suddenly bleeding from him. He wanted to touch Jack, wanted to cup his face in his hands, but he didn't dare to.

Jack waved his hand dismissively. “Yeah. I've had worse. Don't worry.”

But of course, Ianto worried. “I'll get some ice,” he declared, and rushed over to the phone to order some ice brought up here immediately.

Jack didn't argue with him on that since he really needed the ice right now, as much as Ianto probably needed the fussing over and worrying right now. 

As soon as the ice had been delivered, Ianto put some onto a napkin, and folded it together. He leaned over Jack, and gently pressed it against his cheek. The older man hissed, but otherwise didn't complain. Instead, he reached over for the ice and another napkin, and wrapped it up just like Ianto had done. Resolutely, he grasped Ianto's free right hand where his knuckles were quite red and swollen, and started wrapping it up in the ice-filled napkin.

“Thanks,” Ianto whispered.

“Thank  _ you _ ,” Jack replied, leaning his head into Ianto's touch, and with it, into the heavenly cool cloth pressed gently against his face. “I heard about what you did with Mott.”

Ianto smiled. “It was a business decision,” he declared dignified.

Jack returned the smile, more smug though. “Sure. What else.” He would have grinned, but his face hurt too much for that, so, luckily, he refrained from grinning in the last second. 

“It felt good,” Ianto admitted, nodding so as if to confirm it to himself again.

“Good.”

The two men smiled at each other, and gradually, they realised how close they were to each other, Ianto's comforting weight pressing Jack into the couch cushions while pressing the ice against his cheekbone.

But then, Jack snapped out of it, suddenly being reminded that he had been about to pack his things. He gently but resolutely pushed Ianto's hand away. “It's all right now.” He wriggled free from under Ianto, and hurried away from the couch to finish his packing. “I gotta get going.”

“Yeah.” He felt Ianto's gaze fixed onto his stuff. “I noticed you packed,” he stated lamely, still on the couch, watching him.

Nodding, Jack put the finishing touches on his packing while being watched by Ianto the whole time. When he was ready, Ianto called up the staff to get the luggage, then the younger man sat down next to Jack on the two steps leading from the living room area up to the front door. He sat next to him silently, and waited until Jack had put on his shoes before he held out a bundle of notes.

“Thank you.”

“Thank _you_ ,” Jack said once again, and took the money, stowing it away in the inside of his suit jacket. 

Taking in a deep, steeling breath, Ianto opened his mouth, but in that moment, the doorbell rang; the bellboys had come for Jack's things. Awkwardly, they stood on either sides of the short corridor leading to the exit, sneaking peeks at each other while the men hurried about swiftly back and forth between them to get all the suitcases and garment bags.

They stood before each other slightly uncomfortable after they had gone, leaving the two men alone once more.

Eventually, Ianto held out a business card. “Well... If you ever need anything... dental silk maybe...” They both chuckled glumly. “Or if you ever come to Cardiff, visit me, okay?”

“Yeah, sure.” Jack smiled at Ianto, but it didn't reach his eyes for the first time in days. Ianto grasped for the greatcoat, and held it out to Jack who slipped into the heavy, comforting wool. He let Ianto adjust it on his shoulders, and then, slowly stepped to the door, his feet feeling as if being weighed down with lead. 

“Don't go,” Ianto suddenly pleaded, rushing after him, and placing himself between Jack and the door. He looked at the other man imploringly, and for a split-second, he hoped when he saw the indecision flashing up in Jack's eyes. But then, the older man shook his head. 

“No, Ianto. It wouldn't end well. There'll always be someone like Saxon who thinks he can take his liberties with me.” Jack averted his eyes. “And even if I weren't what I am... we're living in different worlds...”

“I don't care,” Ianto whispered fiercely, bridging the distance between them. He wrapped his arms around Jack's waist, and put his forehead against Jack's. “Please...”

Jack closed his eyes, sighing heavily.

“I love you, Jack.”

Jack's eyes snapped up again, and suddenly, he  squirmed out of Ianto's arms hurriedly although this was exactly what he had wanted to hear, what he had wanted to hear for his little-kid fairytale to become true. But he couldn't be sure if Ianto really meant it or if he just didn't want to see him go. Maybe in the grand scheme, it didn't matter what it was, they could still be together, but for Jack, it mattered. “You love a dream, Ianto.” He slipped past him, and fumbled for the door. “Goodbye.” 

He didn't stop as the door shut behind him, the soft click painfully loud in the otherwise silent corridor. He hurried to the elevators without looking back, and only when the elevator doors had slid shut behind him as well, and only when he felt the cabin come to life with a  jerk did he take in a deep, shuddering breath. 

Steeling himself, he straightened up as the doors opened again, and he stepped into the foyer.

Smith was already waiting for him.

“So, you're leaving us?” the manager asked softly, a sad smile curling around his lips. “You're not accompanying Mr. Jones to Cardiff?”

“We both know it couldn't end well,” Jack replied equally as sad, but tried to put on a cheerful smile for both their sakes. “You and me, we both live in the real world, and know how it's supposed to be.”

Smith's smile stayed sad, but it took on an understanding hue. “How will you get home?”

“I'll call a cab, don't worry.”

“No, that won't do. Andy will take you wherever you want.”

Jack nodded. “All right. Thanks.”

To his surprise, Smith leaned forward, and embraced him gently which almost brought Jack to tears in the middle of the foyer.

“Visit us again some time, Jack Harkness,” he whispered. “Any time you want.”

Jack nodded, not able to utter even one word as a lump closed up his throat.

When Smith drew back, they looked at each other for a long minute, then the younger man squeezed his shoulders, and stepped out of his way.

 

Andy waited for him at the entrance, and he followed the young man after he had taken Jack's things.

He knew without a doubt that leaving Ianto had been the biggest mistake of his life, but he didn't ask Andy to turn the car around. It was better for them both. Ianto had his own life. There wasn't any space for an old whore in the  splendour of his world. 

Rose waited for him when he came home, having gotten a huge pizza to welcome him back. He was happy about the pizza, but for the rest, his life seemed suddenly so bleak again. This flat had never looked so run-down and shabby like in that moment.

Therefore, he couldn't put it off any longer to tell her about what kind of plan he had started putting together on the short drive from the Dorchester back to Soho.

“I'm leaving, Rose.”

Rose almost choked on a piece of pizza. “W-what!?” she spluttered.

Jack shrugged. “I can't do this any more, and you know it.”

Rose sighed dejectedly, and nodded. “Yeah, I know. But what will you do?”

Jack shrugged again. “Taking evening classes to finish school for a start. I know that I'm probably too old, but I want to try to get my life on track for the first time ever. But I'll leave London for that. 'S much too expensive here. Maybe I go to Scotland. Find my roots.” He smirked at her.

She tried to return it, but it turned out a little watery. “I know you have to go, but it breaks my heart nonetheless.”

“Come here.” Jack pulled here into a tight hug, and for a little while, they sat like that on their battered old sofa.

Eventually, Rose drew back. Sniffing, she stood up. “Gotta go to work.”

“Would you do me a favour?”

“Yeah, sure.”

“Give it up.”

Rose turned wide eyes onto Jack.

“I mean it. You can do so much better. If I can, then you can do it, too.”

“But what...”

“I'll give you some of my money. Take on advanced training. You're always on about make-up and such. Do that. Become a cosmetician or something.”

Moved, Rose pressed her lips together. “Do you really think I can do that?”

“I do. I'm sure of it.”

Sniffing, and brushing away her tears, Rose threw herself back down onto the sofa into Jack's arms.

 

Ianto spend the night tossing and turning until he eventually gave up, and got up to get some work done. He'd dropped a bombshell with his announcement to start a co-operation with Mott. There was a lot to do still, and additionally, he had to think about the completely different course the firm should take from now on.

As was to be expected, he was restless and a little grumpy the next morning. And he was glad to finally leave this hotel suite behind him. He couldn't stay here even one more minute.

Downstairs, he met the manager, Smith, at the desk, so they took care of the last formalities.

“You don't have any messages for me, do you?” he asked, trying to appear professional, but he knew that Smith saw right through him.

“No,” he said sadly. “Unfortunately not.”

Ianto nodded dejectedly. “I see.”

“It may interest you though that Andy took Mr. Harkness home yesterday.”

Ianto's gaze snapped up to the other man who looked at him calmly, but in his eyes shone a knowing gleam. He nodded briskly at the other man.

“Goodbye, Mr. Smith.”

“Goodbye, Mr. Jones.”

 

It had been strange spending the night alone again, and he immediately missed Ianto, but he squashed these yearnings ruthlessly before they could take roots.

Rose had helped him pack the whole morning. He'd come to a decision; he wanted to see this through as soon as possible lest he get cold feet.

Rose watched him put the last touches on his packing, looking gloomy and hugging the ratty, old teddy bear she still went to bed with.

“You'll need to get a new flatmate,” Jack remarked.

“Yeah, yeah. I'll find someone.”

“Good.” Jack looked around and sighed. “This should be all.”

“When will you leave?” 

“Three hours.”

“Okay. I could make us some coffee to pass the time.”

Jack grimaced painfully. Though it was hard, he wouldn't drink any coffee any time soon, that was for sure. “No, thanks.”

“Pfft. Okay, then I'll just sit here moping.”

“Poor baby.” Jack grinned a her.

There was a faint noise suddenly that they didn't pay any attention to at first, but it started becoming louder. As it got nearer, it became clear that it was the honking of a car.

“What's that noise?!” Rose cried, annoyed, and jumped up and over to the window, opening it up, leaning outside to get a better look. “Some dorks doing a car race around here or what?!”

“Probably.”

“Oh my gosh!” Rose squeaked, drawing back inside, and slapping her hands across her mouth, looking at him wide-eyed. 

“What is it?” Alarmed, Jack came over to her, but she was blocking the view. 

“It's him, isn't it?!” she found her voice again. “It must be him.”

“Rose Tyler, what are you talking about?”

Irritated, Jack shoved her aside to look out the window himself.

The car that made the obtrusive honking came rolling down the street at walking speed. It was a familiar limo, and a man was standing up and leaning through the open window on the top. The man looked up at Jack, spreading his arms wide in a ta-dah gesture, one hand clutching an umbrella if not a sword.

A mad laugh bubbled up in Jack. “You are ridiculous,” he whispered. “My knight...” Well, if not a horse, at least the limo was indeed white.

“Jack!” Ianto cried, and scrambled out of the window and skidded down from the car's roof not very elegantly. He looked up again after he was safely back on the ground. “Prince Jack! Come down!”

Giggling almost hysterically, Jack climbed out of the window onto the fire escape ladder, Rose's “go get him, honey! He's really hot!” seeing him off.

By now, under the amused glances of Andy, Rose, and a whole lot of neighbours, Ianto had come to a stop under the fire escape ladder.

“It had to be the top floor, right?” he called up, exasperated, a mad gleam shining in his eyes.

“It's the best!” Jack retorted smugly, and wondered what Ianto would do, if he would climb the tower. 

“All right. I'm coming up then.” Stylishly like only a real gentleman could, Ianto hooked the handle of his umbrella onto the last rung of the fire escape ladder, and pulled it down to him with a flourish. Gingerly, he started climbing up, pressing himself closely against the wall of the house as soon as he had mastered each ladder and come to the next floor. All the while, Jack waited on the top, laughing hilariously at him with incandescent joy. When he was only one storey below Jack, the older man decided the put Ianto out of his misery, and climbed down the ladder, right into Ianto's waiting arms.

“And... what happens when the knight has saved the prince?” Ianto asked breathlessly, feeling immensely better now that he could anchor himself to the sight of Jack's face, and didn't have to look down for the moment.

“The prince rescues him right back.”

“Well, that's quite a good idea at the moment,” Ianto retorted, deadpan, and just refrained from looking down again. 

Jack's heartfelt laugh sounded in his ears, sweet as honey, as the other man pulled him into a deep kiss.

**End**

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> I hope you liked my version of Pretty Woman. I, for myself, had fun writing it, I practically breezed through it.  
> One more thing: To make this clear, I've never been to Soho, and I have no idea where in London prostitutes – male or otherwise – go about their business. I just worked here with the infos I found online. I don't want to offend anyone who actually lives or works there with the way I portrait the area. I just needed a place similar – or apparently similar – to the area in the movie.
> 
> I have added a frontcover for this story on DeviantArt. Have a look at it: https://www.deviantart.com/celedansuniverse/art/Say-You-ll-Stay-With-Me-772138068


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